#like he's been performing for so long that he can't tell what's real and what's constructed

[florallylly]

steve harrington so used to people's eyes on him, doesn't notice when someone is watching him OR hyper vigilant but also really good at reading people, knows eddie has been sneaking peeks at him from behind his textbook

[mintmatcha]

tiktok reader universe

contains mentions of sexual assault. cisfem reader.

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There's still times when Bakugo can tell your mind wanders during sex. The focus drains from your eyes, your grip goes limp, and your smile slips just a bit. You always come back to him if he says something, but... sometimes he lets it happen, lets you drift away. Maybe the distance is needed.

Even after all this time, you still never sleep over after sex. Tonight, you're a bit more impatient than usual, fixing your hair and wiping your brow right after he pulls away.

"I was offered a job today," you say casually.

"Yeah?" Bakugo loops an arm around the empty pillow that could be yours, if only you'd lean back into it. "With who?"

Instead, he's left to study the curve of your spine as you throw your legs over the side of the bed. He loves the story your body tells, with its scars and marks. Even the acne pocks are a reminder you were once just a teenager, just like he was. His own scars have puckered with age, still the same raging pink they were when they first healed.

"Someone with way too much money-" you say. -"who likes what I've done for your image and thinks I can fix theirs."

"And can you?"

You shoot him a grin from over your shoulder. "Is that even a question?"

Truthfully, Bakugo thinks you could do anything if you wanted to. You could lean over and rip his heart from his chest with just your fucking teeth-- and you'd make it look easy. He'd maybe even thank you. He'd definitely let it happen again.

Bakugo gives up on luring you back. "Well, when do you start?"

Your head tilts.

"I don't," you say."I didn't take the job."

Bakugo sits up straighter.

"I didn't want to leave you."

The statement sits warm in his chest, then quickly cools.

"Well, maybe you should have."

That makes you turn. You cock your head the other way, expression neutral, but still gracing him with a closed lip grin. The stare lasts for a long while before you crawl back under the covers and return to his side. Your lips find the side of his neck and your hands grip back to him, hot, heavy, breathless in that way you think he likes. A hum builds in your throat, a rolling, performative sound.

"Pull your cock out," you demand, right into the shell of his ear. "If this is the last time, I want another round."

"What?"

He doesn't have time to react before you're gripping his half hard cock, jerking it up gently. It's still wet with you and buzzing with sensitivity, so much so that he can't help but enjoy it, enjoy you-

"If you're about to break up with me, I want to at least cum one more time."

He loses the remnants of his erection.

"That's not what I fucking meant." Bakugo tries to meet your eye, but you just keep kissing at him, gripping at him. "Just-- stop stroking my cock for a second and be fucking serious."

You freeze, but keep your hand on him.

"I don't wanna work together," Bakugo reaches for your hand. The free one. "I just want to date."

You don't respond.

"I want to take you places and have you meet my parents and-"

God. this is so unlike him. When did he lose his teeth? Did you pull them straight from his skull and hang them from your neck like jewels?

"I want you to sleep over." He means it. "Like a real fucking couple."

The ceiling fan hums with an uneven hitch, catching in the same spot each time. It's an easy fix, but he's been ignoring it for so long that it's almost blended into the tapestry of his home. Click-click-click-click-click: now it's deafening, overwhelming the silence you're choosing to sit in. Just as he's about to open his mouth, you look away from his body and meet his eye. There's no sharp edge to your eyes.

"'tsuki."

You say it like a mother about to comfort a child, with a rounded curve to your tone that he's never heard before. You're trying to dull the blow, but it does nothing. It's a fucking knife to the gut.

"I'm serious. I'm really serious." He points with his whole arm towards the bathroom. "I've had a fucking toothbrush ready for you for weeks now. It's right there, in the fucking package."

You withdraw, smile long gone. The air between you two, trapped under the covers, goes cold.

"The girlfriend thing." You are unrecognizable without your Mona Lisa grin and he's obsessed with it. He wants to consume these rare moments, chew on them until he's full of you and only you, despite how it makes his stomach turn. "It was never real. You know that."

You cover your bare tits with one arm, but leave your pussy exposed. It feels like a reflex more than an actual concern.

"I'm not meant to be a girlfriend. You don't want me as a girlfriend."

Bakugo's quick to close the distance between you, but he pauses when you full body flinch. Your quirk activates for a moment - you glitter out of existence and then immediately back in- like it's unwittingly done. It's another incredibly un-you moment, but one that he doesn't want to drink in.

"I do." He keeps his voice as delicate as he can. "I do. I fucking do."

"I don't know how to do the things you need. I don't know how to be a girlfriend," you say. The corners of your smile return and he can see the wall coming back up. The arch of your back, the way your hand suddenly cups your tit: you turn yourself into someone else, someone's who's happy to be here, in an instant. "I can make myself girlfriend shaped. I can open my mouth and let you fuck it. I can pose for a picture. I can make your friends jealous."

Oh, and that distant look comes back to your face. The dilation of your eye is just... wrong, even as you smile.

"But I'm just something that's girlfriend shaped," you say. "I'm an illusion, a creature, a tool, a hole-"

"Don't ever say that shit again."

It rips out of him too roughly. "A hole? That's-- why would you say that?"

It all seems to hit you slowly, as if you're processing your own words. Like it never occured to you that you were saying something foul.

"Because-" you try to explain yourself.

"You're just a girl," Bakugo doesn't let you finish the thought. He can't. Not when you're above him like that, so guarded and yet so vulnerable, neither predator nor prey. "I hate to break your fucking illusion or whatever, but you aren't this fucking lumbering beast or huntress or, or, or, I dunno, whatever the commission has tricked you into believing."

He tries to meet your eye, but you're ducking away from it.

"You're just a girl." He lets his hands fall back to his lap. The pinky that doesn't work twitches, kicking with it's old muscle memory. The scar tissue itches under it's own tautness. "Underneath it all. You're just a girl."

The mattress creaks under your weight as you shift back. Now, your eyes are incredibly focused, almost pinpricks. You watch him with an unreadable expression, one slowly inching more towards horror with every moment.

"You think I can't see you, but I can." Bakugo stays where he is. "And I think you want to be seen."

Everything moves slowly. You blink a couple times, with this meek nod, swallowing thickly as you listen. Then, you get off of the bed and head towards the door. All of your clothes are still scattered on the bedroom floor, your panties at the foot of the bed.

"Wait." Bakugo scrambles to get to his feet. "Don't- fucking wait."

He says your name, once, twice, three times, and gets no response. Panic and regret swirl in his skull, so violent he almost goes lightheaded. By the time he reaches the hall, you're gone, and he thinks you've activated your quirk to escape him. It's the nightmare he's always had around you, the one where you disappear into the night the second he gets too close.

And then the bathroom light flicks on. With a careful trepidation, Bakugo inches down towards the door, afraid the break the illusion. Maybe, if he moves too fast, you'll really scatter off into the night, a deer under his headlights.

But when he slides into the frame, you're just standing there, holding a familiar little tube.

"This it?" You hold the package in your hand. "My toothbrush?"

"Yeah."

With your thumbs, you crack into the packaging and carefully peel the toothbrush out. You run the head under the faucet, then turn it off.

"Toothpaste?"

Bakugo pulls out the top drawer. With a sullen nod, you take the toothpaste and unscrew the top. Bakugo watches you, both of you completely naked, both of you completely silent. It surprises him how unsexual it feels to be here, postcoital, still sweaty, watching you brush your teeth. After the moment settles, he steps over and grabs his own brush.

You're just a girl, he thinks as he brushes his teeth next to you. He likes that you're just a girl next to him.

The both of you finish up, then you silently pad back to the room. Bakugo follows, a healthy distance, but close enough the he watches you shrug on his sweatshirt before dipping under the covers. Your head rests on your pillow.

Bakugo finds his space on the other side of the bed and you lay there, in the dim overhead lighting.

"It's hard for me," you say.

"Sleeping?"

"Yeah."

Bakugo turns on to his side and almost reaches out. Almost. Instead, he goes back and turns off the light. When he returns, you're nothing but a dark lump beside him.

"That's okay," he says, "You can sleep however the hell you want."

Your silhouette stays still.

"Sometimes I wake up crying," you say. "Or kicking, or just remembering something I shouldn't."

"Remembering what?"

The click of the fan overtakes everything again as you lay there, pulling in even breaths. A moment passes, then another and another. You're silent for too long, long enough that he thinks you've fallen asleep. Just as he's about to give up, you sigh out a winding breath.

"He was a hero," you whisper. "I felt special when he paid attention to me."

A chill he can't place creeps up his spine. He wants to ask what that means, why you're telling him this, but nothing comes out when he opens his mouth. He has to swallow, then cleae his throat.

"Did-?" His voice crackles. "Did someone hurt you?"

Again, you're silent.

"Who?" This time, when you don't respond, he presses. "Fucking who?"

"Someone who retired a long, long time ago."

"Give me a name and I'll fucking-"

"Katsuki."

"Someone raped you."

He had to say it out loud and dispel the mystery behind it. It's selfish, brash, but he needed it- just as he needs this hand around you, holding, cradling-

"That's what happens when you're just a girl." You clutch at his forearm with a want that isn't present in your voice. "People hurt you."

The bite of your nails surprises him.

"It's safer to be something else."

It's his turn to be quiet.

[gotta-winwin]

OT13 Reaction -- the aha moment

or...how they realize they're in love with you

seungcheol doesn't get that aha moment, falling in love isn't something that happens within seconds for him. it's like he's slowly drifting into love, not even realizing you've become the focal point of his entire existence. when it finally hits him, it's a quiet, simple moment. he's watching you make him breakfast in the morning, admiring you quietly from the kitchen counter. he zones out for a moment, blinking suddenly and realizing damn. that's my woman. and he knows he's ruined for life.

it's kind of silly, how jeonghan realizes he's in love with you. he's just returned home from a busy day at work, entering the house to find it empty. searching the place top to bottom, he's about to call you when - BOO - you jump out from one of the closets and scares the soul out of him. he's clutching his chest, watching as you collapse onto the ground in a fit of giggles. he can't help but laugh along, realizing through the chaos that he's found his soulmate, and he'd be damned not to admit he's in love with you.

joshua's a simple man by nature. he's easily happy in life, only needing his members, his job, his lifestyle, and of course, you. it doesn't take long into your relationship before he realizes he's in love, as the two of you take a stroll along the Han River after a long day. he's watching the setting sun reflect against your figure, taking his phone out to snap a few pictures. it's when he notices his camera roll is full of pictures of you does he think well, that's it. i'm in love.

upon meeting his family, jun notices how much work you've put into it. you're doing your best to speak his town's dialect, communicating with his parents in a language that made them most comfortable. his heart swells when he sees you amidst his childhood home, trading stories and eating with the people who raised him. it's when he notes that you look so perfect here that he realizes you just fit. he's in love.

as if everything else is with soonyoung, his aha moment is full of fireworks and pizzazz. having just finished the most record breaking performance of his life, he finds himself with one thought only: i want to go home. usually, it's because he's tired. but now, ever since you stumbled into his life, he finds himself wanting, needing, to go home so he can hold you and recite everything that happened today. he's practically thrumming with energy to rush home, and everyone around him sees what is so painfully obvious. he's so in love.

wonwoo's always credited himself to be a loner. not a lot of people can fit with his quiet personality, so when you offer the idea of "parallel play" he's a little confused. his heart warms when you explain that you don't mind doing separate things as long as you're in the same area, understanding that he needs more time to himself than others might. it's when you tell him you love him enough to compromise does he think im so in love with this girl right now.

woozi's used to writing songs dedicated to his fans and members. he sits down for another writing session, brainstorming ideas and the thought of you pops into his mind. he shrugs, thinking it might be nice to mix it up a bit, sitting down to write something about you. it's when he reads his own words back does he realize he's irrevocably screwed and so in love with you. thought about settling down, buying her a house and saying screw the music. yeah, he's in love.

having always been a realist, minghao doesn't necessary believe in true love, or love at first sight. he understands there's going to be someone out there for him, but he's skeptical that that someone is going to be perfect. all his beliefs go out the window the moment he sees you - it's like you're surrounded by a golden glow - and he realizes maybe love at first sight can be real.

seokmin loves and gives as easy as breathing. he's always been a generous guy, and it's when you sit him down and kindly remind him to leave some for himself does he stare at you and realize ok i've found the one. you've become that steadiness in his life that used to be just his members, and you love and give to him like it's as simple as breathing too.

having always been the resident cook, mingyu's eyeing your food creation like it's some kind of poison or drug. he had insisted you didn't need to cook for him, he's always been the cook and doesn't mind it, but you were stubborn and he relented. it's when the first bite blows him away does he realize he kinda misses having someone cook for him too. if you're this good at cooking i might just have to marry you, he says, ignoring how you blush, going back for another bite.

seungkwan's always been the entertainer. he doesn't mind it, he enjoys the fact it's his job to make everyone laugh. but when times get tough and he's in no mood to be the entertainer, you're right there to support him. it's when he gets home to you after a particularly rough day and you welcome him in with open arms, murmuring how he's done well and doesn't need to do more. it's when he realizes he can just be seungkwan - not seungkwan the entertainer, but just seungkwan - and he loves you for that.

vernon never really thought about finding the one. he always just assumed that they would find him. and that's exactly what happens, when you bump into each other at the movie theatre - both there alone just cause. it's when you're enthusiastically going band for band with vernon about movies that he's forced with the realization that shit. maybe i have found the one.

chan's always known he was in love with you. he doesn't like to admit it cause he thinks it makes him sound sappy, but he truly never questioned his love for you. it was a simple thing in his mind - this person makes me so fucking happy - i must be in love. and how could it not be simple for him? he's staring at you quipping about some joke to his friends and he's thinking i love you. he's watching you just wake up from a nap and he's thinking i love you. he sees a text from you on his phone mid-dance practice. i love you. he's always been in love with you because he loves everything to do with you.

[ozzgin]

I love your reader insert stuff!! The yandere yazuka series was vvvv entertaining, I wish I had a big scary gangster to scare away my stalker lol

If you are open to requests, how about Idol!Reader x Yandere!Bodyguard. I love the trope so much, and I'm interested and what you'd do with the idea. No worries if you're not interested tho!

Best wishes

-🌟

I just finished writing it and you've got me punching the air with your prompt. It wasn't really my thing but I'm now sold. Thank you for the trope idea. :’)

Yandere!Bodyguard x Idol!Reader (I)

Short scenario featuring your bodyguard that takes his duty a little too seriously. Not that you’d mind…

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

TW: violence

(Cover from the manga “A girl and her guard dog”)

"Fantastic show tonight!"

The older man guides you in and closes the door behind him. You smile warmly and seat yourself on the sofa. He quickly follows, although at a terribly uncomfortable proximity. His legs are pressed against yours and he extends an arm behind you, pretending to stretch. You shuffle awkwardly and lock your hands in your lap. You can already tell where this is going.

"With your talent, I'm confident we could triple the number of attendants. We just need a bigger venue." He nods at you and taps your thigh with his other free hand as encouragement. You notice the wedding band digging into his skin. 

"Alas, let us not waste the evening with business talk. I'm sure a stunning lady like you has better things to do." He laughs at his own compliment and ponders for a minute. "In fact, why don't we have dinner together? I know a great restaurant in the area."

You open your mouth to speak, but are distracted by the sudden, mild pressure on your leg. Somehow, his greasy fingers have wandered further up in the time you listened to his shameless offer. You've been in this career for long enough to guess what such proposals entail. If you say no, best case scenario he presses further, calling you a stuck up bitch and reminding you who has the power in this partnership. Worst case scenario, he leaves the room and the calls and invitations to perform will gradually drop. 

Yet your situation is special, benefitting from an additional possibility. A loophole, if you may.

Should you scream? Oh, he always gets so angry when you act scared. It's an immediate trigger. He really has a soft spot for your glistening, frightened eyes. You glance up one final time at the perverted smirk silently disregarding you. If you are to be honest with yourself, you'd very much enjoy seeing it wiped off forever. Why not? You're feeling particularly mean today.

So without hesitation, you release a high pitched yell of help. The door bursts open and the hinges creak. A tall, toned man walks in, and without a word he lunges at the manager, pulling him by the collar of his cheap dress jacket. You hold your cheeks dramatically, and bat your eyelashes at your bodyguard.

"H-he tried to molest me..." you mumble between sobs.

That's all he needs to proceed. Now the real fun begins. You can hear the muffled screams of protest. The bones crack and the flesh bends under his iron fists. Standing before your bodyguard, they all end up looking like ragdolls. Comically limp and weak, folding and breaking with no resistance. It amuses you greatly.

When did it all begin? You can't remember anymore. You were in your early years and this scary looking stranger entered your little backstage room. His explanation was brief and to the point: as your fame increases, so will the threats to your safety. He was appointed as your bodyguard. You couldn't care less, so you just shrugged. 

You've always been on the playful side. Not necessarily rude, just some innocent tease and banter wherever it's well received. Seeing him so quiet and stoic, you couldn't help but try to push his buttons: changing in front of him and requiring his assistance, occasionally asking him to pick you up and carry you because you could no longer walk. Naturally you would've stopped at the first complaint, but that's the strange part: no reaction ever came. He went along with everything. You assumed it's part of the job. Celebrities aren't known for their good manners, so hiring someone that loses their temper easily would be a fast ticket to termination.

Then you had your first encounter with one of the unpleasant fans you've been warned about. You could only stare in terror at your bodyguard's feral, unhinged reaction. The unfortunate fan's face was so disfigured, you wondered if anyone could ever manage to fix it back into shape. The bodyguard was panting and you could see the sweat coating his face and chest. You were rather confident there were many other ways to deal with it and this wasn't on the recommended list. Thus you felt compelled to ask the million dollar question:

"You act like a jealous spouse. Do you have a crush on me or something?"

You kind of regretted your audacity towards a man that had just nearly killed someone. But his features softened instantly and he turned to you, wiping his forehead and straightening his collar. 

"I suppose so. Is that an issue?"

As you stared ahead, processing his unbothered act, you sensed your cheeks feverishly burning. Uh oh. You hadn't anticipated such a nonchalant confession. You thought back to all the times you stood before him, bare and flirty. Was he merely holding back his urges the entire time? Or was he finally paying you back for all the teasing? Then again, his face didn't betray any hint of humor.

"I've never heard you joke before", you decided to test the waters.

"I'm not. Why would I joke about something like this?" He gazed at you incredulously. 

As somber and honest as ever. Well, that would indeed explain why he'd let you get away with the cheeky behavior. The more you considered it, the more entranced you became with the idea of indulging in such a relationship. As a famous idol, you couldn't be seen dating anyone. One rumor of you having a boyfriend and the agency would've had your ass suspended. But no one said anything about messing around with your bodyguard. He has to be with you all the time, so no one would suspect a thing. And you could definitely expand his list of responsibilities. You'd been terribly stressed lately, after all, and an outlet to release your frustrations would be most welcomed. Your bodyguard would never refuse pleasing his beloved.

You chuckled and pulled him towards your dressing room, giddy with excitement. Something about his imposing presence, like a wild animal that had just escaped from the leash, aroused you to no end. You've had your share of crazy fans, but this was the cherry on top. 

"Should we leave?"

You're jolted out of your daydreams by his low, rough voice. Ah, you missed the grand finale. Too bad. The bodyguard approaches you, with the shirt wrinkled and the top buttons popped open under the shuffle of his vicious attack. You can feel the knot forming in your stomach.

"Not yet. You know how I get when you act like this..." You pout and look away. "You need to take care of me first."

He grins at your last statement.

"Of course. Is the sofa okay?"

You nod.

"Then let's get you undressed, miss."

Is this what they call a scary dog privilege? 

[dumpywrites]

Knocked Out - Jeon Jungkook

Prompt: Watching a concert is fun, until you get knocked out by the idol's mic.

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Fluff, idol Jungkook, fan reader, drabble-ish, they have language barrier

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

a/n: After watching "Are you sure?!" I can't help but to make this. Jungkook trying to talk in english is just the most precious :')

The long awaited 2025 reunion. It was finally time to attend your dream concert. You had been saving enough money and the time was now for you to see BTS live right before your eyes. 

The first time seeing your favorite group had to be special. You were dressed up in light purple colored tee and a frilly white bottoms. You even had some cute Tata and Cooky plush charms hanging on your bag. You didn’t spend that huge stack of front line festival just to not look fun and eye catching. Even though your friend kept telling you that dolling up wouldn’t get your bias to notice you, you couldn’t care any less. Today was not the day to pretend and being a pick-me trying to not act like you were not an army. 

The gates were finally open, waiting for hours and not buying that one cool looking shoes you saw at the mall finally paid off. Your heart was racing at the view of the stage so up and close to you. Just imagining finally seeing seven of them in 3D was making you go crazy. Pun intended. 

The concert went fantastically great. You were singing, jumping, and dancing along to each and every song they performed. You cried during Spring Day and shouted your lungs out during Fire. Your friend was right though, it was almost their last song and so far, you had zero major interactions besides them waving to your direction, which could be directed to you and many people in your area. 

Dynamite was playing and the show had reached its final list, an encore. Confetti was everywhere, the members could be seen having fun, teasing each other. Jimin and Hobi were having a dance off, while Taehyung and Suga hyped them up from behind. You could see RM still rapping his verse, while Jin was busy taking fans’ phones to give them selfies. 

Then there came Jungkook, he somehow was running in full speed to the front of the stage, before jumping down to greet the fans bellow. Everyone was going mad, trying to get his attention. At this point, you were squeezed since he was in fact, right in front of you, but you were too busy getting lost in his eyes. You still could not believe this man was real and he was performing this close to you. 

You had always knew that Jungkook was a strong guy. You had watched enough of his random lives to know that the man loved working out. That was why you were not so surprised that you got knocked out when he wanted to point his mic to the crowd’s direction, but instead, accidentally battered you right in your forehead.

The next thing was quite a blur. You recalled seeing Jungkook’s eyes went even bigger than it already was, which you did not know was even possible, and then everyone around you shouting, the world was spinning before it faded to black. 

You expected to wake up in your house, but instead, you woke up to an all white room, obviously a hospital. You could see your friend running to your direction with a worried expression, as soon as she saw you getting your consciousness back. 

“Oh my god! How are you feeling?! Anything hurt? How’s your head? Can you remember me???” 

“Girl, relax…” You chuckled. “I’m fine, just a bit dizzy. What happened though?”

“Jungkook knocked you out cold with his mic.” She couldn’t hide the grin on her face. “I’d say you’re lucky, but on second thought, maybe not.” 

“Geez…” You held your head with your palm. “How did I get here?”

“You were immediately taken to hospital. One of the staff told me that Jungkook insisted this, because apparently, the management originally only wanted you to get checked by their medic team.” She said with admiration in her face. “That’s so kind of him, don’t you think?”

“I guess…” You couldn’t help but to feel giddy, even though you knew it was normal for him to react that way considering the situation. “I’m glad it happened during encore though, if not I would’ve ruined the show.” 

Your friend chuckled. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I’ll let the doctor know, wait just for a second…”

Not long after your friend left the room, you could hear a knocking sound from the door. Thinking it was your friend and the doctor, you quickly told them to come in. 

Lo and behold, Jeon Jungkook himself. 

To say you were shocked would be such an understatement. Were you dreaming? Maybe he hit your head too hard and made you hallucinating. Also, that white t-shirt was definitely emphasizing his wide shoulders. You could be biased but he looked way way way better in his casual attire.

“H-Hi!” 

Lord have mercy the man just spoke. 

“Am I dreaming???” You impulsively said, still looking at him in disbelief. 

Jungkook chuckled, shaking his head. “No.”

He fidgeted his fingers together, before moving closer to your bed, making sure to have an appropriate distance between the two of you. “I was gonna ask for translator, but it don’t feel right… I want to uh… apologize alone.”

Your heart melted at how sincere he looked. Despite the slight language barrier, he still tried his best. 

“It’s okay, I forgive you.”

“But I hit you very hard…” He looked down. “That’s not okay.”

“It was an accident.” You smiled. 

“Not okay.” He shook his head. “I’m really sorry!” 

He bowed his head to you. Knowing a bit about Korean culture, you knew what a ninety degrees bow was and what it meant. 

“Jungkook! It’s fine!” 

He lifted his head and sighed. “But you’re like this…” 

“I am perfectly fine right now.” You giggled. Funny how you could feel the nervousness slowly getting lifted.

He suddenly offered you his hand. You froze for a second, just processing on why you could see your idol’s hands near you let alone he himself offering it to you. 

“Jeon Jeongguk.” 

Oh? “No offense, but I already know. I’m quite literally your fan.” You giggled, but then offered your hand back for a handshake, after mentioning your name to him. 

He laughed. Honestly, what a sight. You almost wished to get hospitalized forever if that meant this view being a regular occurring thing. 

“Thank you for coming, you really don’t have to.” You said after he let go of your hand. “I might never get the chance again, so I’m just gonna say this now. Thank you for existing, you really don’t know the impact of you and your music in my life. BTS basically helped me get through the worst moments of my life, and to that I’m forever grateful…”

“I’m glad.” He flashed you a genuine smile. 

You knew the language made him reply in such short sentence, but he didn’t need to say more as his eyes and smile could already tell you how happy he looked hearing your words. 

“I have a request.” You suddenly said. 

He tilted his head at you and voiced a small “huh”. 

“Can I hold your hand?” You quickly reasoned as soon as the sentence left your mouth. “I’m not taking advantage of the situation, I swear! It’s just… your hands are shaking.” You looked at him with worry. 

“Oh!” He nervously laughed. “Sure, you can.”

Although anxious, you carefully placed your hand above his, patting it softly. He gave you a smile again before surprising you by holding your hand. You started wondering what country did you safe in your past life for this to happen. 

“Better?” Obviously, you were blushing like crazy at this point. 

He nodded. “Yup.” 

“Alright.” As much as you didn’t want to, you then withdrew your hand. 

“I have to go now, staff is waiting…”

“Right.” You quickly replied. “Send them my thanks too, okay?”

He nodded vigorously, before giving you a salute, which made you laugh. 

Although sad, you had to see him exited the door. You were lucky enough anyway for that to even happened. 

Just a few minutes later, your friend finally came back with the doctor. You get checked, and after they declared you healthy, you were good to go. You didn’t leave the room before rubbing in your friend’s face on how unlucky of her that Jungkook himself just showed up while she was away. She got you back with mentioning the blue-ish bump on your forehead, and now you could never erase it from your memory that Jungkook had to see you like that. 

You were ready to leave the hospital before someone stopped you at the door. 

“I was told to give this to you.” A nurse handed you a piece of folded paper, before politely bowing her head and left. 

The shock you felt upon reading the note almost sent you back to the hospital room. 

Let’s keep in touch! Please? :)

—Jungkook <3

Both of you and your friend shriek in excitement, especially after seeing the small phone number written on the down corner of the paper. It was confirmed. You had officially used up all your luck for the rest of the year. Maybe five or ten because how unreal this was. 

It was a beginning of something exciting and you couldn’t wait to see what was stored for you in this journey. 

Thank you for reading! 💜💜💜

[yanderenightmare]

Bakugou Katsuki

TW: yandere, kidnapping

fem reader

Just had another thought about bully!Bakugou and quirkless childhood friend!darling...

You fall off the grid after high school only to reveal yourself several years later, right in the thick of his career.

He’s been recruited to go on an undercover mission to uncover a major drug scheme. He and a female operative are to play newlyweds, living together in a pretty suburban picket fence house where you'll be conducting surveillance on the neighboring family.

When you walk into the brief, you don’t give any sign of having recognized him. Nor him you, even though his chest and throat tightened to the point he had to stifle a cough.

When you sit down, you’re calm and collected while letting slip a smooth, breathless scoff – giving a slight smirk, saying calmly, “You jokers chose this landmine for a covert mission?”

“You two know each other?”

Your eyes slide off to look at Bakugou, eyeing him up and down where he sits – trying his best to hide it, but your trained eyes see it clear as day – rigid, short-breathed, a little sweaty. He’s shocked, he’s nervous, he’s even a little embarrassed.

You smile. And despite the history, all you offer in answer is a curt, “We used to.”

Bakugou feels like you have him by the balls. His jaw doesn’t unlock during the entirety of the meeting, reading the list of your responsibilities while they’re explained. How the entire neighborhood might be both bugged and surveyed by the target, so you’ll have to perform as a real married couple every waking hour – including eating together, sleeping together, kissing each other, fucking each other so as not to raise any suspicion.

You don’t budge or show any tells. You’ve been trained for this, and you’ve done this type of work plenty of times before already. Bakugou had read your file, so he knew – but shit, how weren’t you uncomfortable?

The mission lasts three long months and seventeen days. And when it’s done, you fall right off the grid again as though none of it had meant a thing.

And he knows that that’s how it’s supposed to be. He knows none of it is supposed to be real, but how can it not have been? It can't have all been a performance. He rejects that. He refuses it. He knows for certain you couldn’t have been acting all that time. You couldn’t because he hadn’t.

He’s breaking so many rules, tracking you down. And your disgust of his unprofessionalism is written all over your face when you open the door to find him having been the one to ring your doorbell. Still, you save saying anything but gesture for him to come inside.

“You weren’t easy to find-”

“This is gross misconduct, Bakugou. I can have you reported.” You cut him off. He’s not heard that voice come out of you. When you were his wife, you’d only speak sweetly – lovingly and dotingly, often with your arms slung around him, your hands in the short stubble at the back of his neck, smiling up at him so prettily.

You were scowling now.

“Are you?” He asks.

You stare at him for a moment, but then you give in with a sigh – trodding off to what he guesses is the kitchen without an answer to his question. But the silence is an answer in and of itself.

You dress differently than you did. No frilly little dress. But sweatpants and a tank – no jewelry, no makeup, hair undone.

You open the fridge and hand him a beer, then you crack one open yourself. “I have something stronger if you need it.” You say then, but he waves a no. So you lean against the counter and bring your can up to your lips. “Why are you here?”

He watches you drink for a moment. When you were his wife, you didn’t like beer, you only drank white wine, and it always made you tipsy after a couple of sips. You would never even finish a glass before becoming slow and dull-eyed. Suppose he’d never actually seen you drunk at all…

He doesn’t open his beer, feeling the cold dew drip over his knuckles. “Do you miss it?” He asks.

You look him in the eyes with slanted ones of your own. “I’m not humoring that question. If you’re having issues, you should file for a shrink. The bureau offers the best, they’ll suck out all the shit from your mind, and you’ll go back to normal within a week or two.”

“I don’t wanna go back to normal.”

You look annoyed, but then your face softens. “It’s like that the first time. It’ll pass.”

He doesn’t believe you. In your file, it said that you’d done this seven times before. Sometimes much longer than the months you’d spent together.

“It was a job, now it’s over. You need to shut the door on it and move on with your life.”

You say that, but looking around your space, it seems your job doesn’t allow much of life to take place. You have a couch and a TV, but otherwise, everything is barren. No pictures on the walls, no decorations. Where a dining table should stand, you have workout equipment instead, sprawled out over the entire floor. And if he saw your fridge correctly, you only have beer and TV dinners.

“You always on the job?” He asks.

You place your finished beer upside down in the sink, letting the last drops dry off while muttering out a retort, “Aren’t you?”

He doesn’t hear it, though. Too busy looking at you, standing there against the sink – looking the way you did when you’d wash dishes after dinner. You’re not wearing a summer dress or an apron – but you stand the same way. Slightly bent over, hips pushed into the countertop, ass pushed out like a welcome. 

He sets his beer off on the counter and takes his spot behind you, sliding his bigger hands around your small waist, slotting himself against you with his crotch nudged nicely against your butt. It feels right.

You make a small sound, going a little rigid at the unsuspected attack – but weren’t brash enough to push him away. You were rational enough to accept you wouldn’t be able to if you tried. 

“You sure you don’t miss it?” He asks again in a murmur, brushing his lips up your artery – nuzzling against you – his heavy chest resting against your shoulder blades – and you could feel the equally heavy pounding of his heart.

“Listen, Bakugou… whatever you think you miss, it doesn’t exist.” You state flatly. “Dominic and Suzie aren’t real.”

Those had been your names. Dominic and Suzie, Mr. and Mrs. Brooks. Your identities for three months. But now, no more.

“But they can be…” Bakugou whispered back, tugging you a little closer – then released a small breathless laugh. “We always used to say we’d get married one day, remember? When we were brats…”

A small smile creased a dimple on your cheek at the memory, but only for a small second before you remembered everything he’d put you through after. “We’re not brats anymore. And honestly-” You catch your tongue and never finish the thought. It’s so long ago it doesn’t matter.

You sigh, knowing you’re lying to yourself. 

You relax again and drop your head back to rest on his shoulder, overlapping his hands with yours. “In retrospect, we should have filed for replacement from the start.”

“Why didn’t you?”

You pause a little bit, weighing whether you want to tell him or not. “I felt I had something to prove.” You confess. “You’ve always made me feel worthless, so when I was presented with the opportunity to rub it in your face, the child in me couldn’t resist.” 

You thought it would feel like a victory, a sweet revenge, but in the end, it just made you disappointed in yourself. How could you think playing house with a person you hate would do you any justice?

“It was stupid, and I regret it. I’m better than that.” You add resolutely. “Nevertheless, mission complete. It’s behind us now.”

Bakugou didn’t agree, still holding you the same way he’d done. 

 “You should let go of me.” You sigh again. “I’m not gonna act like Suzie for you, so-”

“I don’t want you to act like Suzie.” He interjected, nuzzling against your neck with a whisper. “I want you... the real you.”

You scoff. “Fuck- Katsuki, look around you. There’s nothing here to want.”

“Let’s make something then.” He argues, pressing a soft kiss below your ear. “It was always supposed to be us two. From the start.”

“What are you talking about?” You won't deny the contact feels good. Good enough to make your voice come out in a moan.

“I’m talking about me and you, anywhere we choose.” He continues with his kisses, and you close your eyes to the feeling but still scoff at the offer. 

“You’re talking about a dream. I’m not leaving my job to chase some fantasy with you.”

There's a silence, and Bakugou’s voice comes out more serious after. “I’m not giving you a choice.”

Your brows furrow, and you open your eyes again.

He still kisses your neck, now with his hands rubbing firm circles in your sides.  

“You were very hard to find…” He mutters. “I doubt anyone would notice if you went missing…”

“Katsuki-” You protest, still calm as you try and push yourself from the counter, but it’s an aimless effort. His touches only grow stronger to keep you in place.

“The bureau would think you’d decided to go private or retire. And given your record, I don’t think they’d spend too many resources trying to find you.”

“Katsuki, let go-” It’s scary, but you’ve been in scarier situations, so you’re able to keep your cool still – despite the chills that run up your spine from his speech. “You’re talking crazy-”

“Living like this is what’s crazy.” He answers.

His apartment looks the same. Nothing personal anywhere except a vain mantle lined with diplomas and trophies he’d received for civic duties when he’d laid his life on the line. Otherwise, it was as stale as a cheap hotel room – no art, no pictures, no carpets, not even a lamp. Just the necessities. Kitchen articles and a bed.

“I need you. And by the looks of things, you need me too.”

[tealvenetianmask]

We need some Barbie Wire Analysis . . .

Because for a character with maybe . . . 2-3 minutes of screen time, she sure has an outsized importance in the show. This is rivaled only by Tilla, who we know even less about.

Barbie gets the major callback in the last scene of Season 2. As other bloggers have pointed out, it could have been Fizz, who's a much bigger character so far. Fizz hated Blitz for 15 years, and they were able to finally reconcile-- even though 15 years is still a long time, that would have been, arguably, a more hopeful, comforting story for Stolas to hear.

But Barb, well, she's on his mind. She always is. "I miss her every day."

Barbie's absense, I think, is made more real by the way in which the show introduces her through photos, and she's never overtly mentioned in all of Season 1.

We're told that Blitz has a twin, that they performed together in the circus (or maybe after), and through her non-mentions, that something bad happened.

Then she's in the photo that makes Blitz finally break down at the end of Ozzie's.

I like how the twins mirror each other here. Similar eyes and face shapes, circus marks on their foreheads, pointy teeth, simple joy and enthusiasm. Whatever their lives were like at that time, they experienced it together, and there were good times.

Barb is central to Blitz's loss and his capacity for love.

We finally meet Barb in Unhappy Campers, and the way she's introduced . . . well. Unfortunately a lot of us were so disappointed that Blitz wasn't going to visit Stolas that we couldn't fully process what he was doing. When he first asked about Barb, my first reaction was "who?"

But that hasn't been Blitz's experience. He's just been keeping a major part of his day to day thoughts and feelings from us.

This nurse knows what's up. He's come back again and again to see Barb, and no taser can deter him.

It's such an obvious and central part of his life- missing Barb, trying to reconnect with her, that he seems honestly unaware that he's never told Moxxie about her at all.

It might feel like we're thrown into an emotional family confrontation out of nowhere, but Blitz has gone through years, potentially, of trying to get Barb to talk to him and being shut down. The hurt in his face, how it wears on him, and how he can't bear to give up hope. Well. It's all there.

So at this point, we still don't know Barb deeply. We only know what Blitz has told us, but more importantly, how he reacts to her absence, how he refuses to give up.

It tells us a lot about his stubbornness, the fine line he walks between resilience, hope, and just a pigheaded refusal to give up.

Maybe Barb is a part of why Blitz is like this. Maybe losing her taught him that some things are so important that it's worth never giving up, even if continuing to try is painful.

Maybe there will be a reconciliation, in part or in full.

But honestly, I also won't mind if a lesson Blitz needs to learn is that sometimes you do need to give up on someone you love. For that person's freedom to reinvent themselves. For your own sanity and contentment in life.

And if Blitz does let her go (at least of the practical fight to reconnect)? He'll think of her every day still.

[f1cflcfic]

The Prophecy (SMAU ft. Lando Norris) Part I

pairing: lando norris x singer!reader (y/n)

summary: what happens after the break-up that noone saw coming? as Y/N L/N gears up to release her next album, each song reveals a little bit of the past, present and future of her relationship with Lando Norris. Inspired by a curated playlist built around "The Prophecy". note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons. Also, this story is angsty with a happy ending - it does not contain any smut or suggestive themes. [A/N: This is my first SMAU and hooooooly shit did I totally underestimate how much work it is, and how things work within Tumblr to make it look alright. If you have any tips, let me know lol. I had to split it up in pieces, but i've got all the content written out already, so will be updated soon with the next part!]

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥

December, 2025

February, 2026

[Excerpt from red carpet interview at the Grammy's with Y/N]

How are you feeling tonight? You're up for 3 awards, one of them Album of the Year for All I Ever Needed - that's huge!

"It's so overwhelming, to be honest."

Even when you've gone through this experience before? This is your fourth time attending, second time as nominee.

"Yeah, maybe even more so! It's a great chance to hang out with friends and meet new people, but it's also really prestigious still. Being nominated - I try to act like it doesn't matter, because awards always involve politics too - but at the end of the day, you do want it."

And who're you most looking forward to seeing tonight?

"Honestly? I came alone tonight, so I can't wait to find Sabrina [Carpenter] and Jade. I'm gonna need my girls."

Your friend Miley is also up for an award tonight in the same category, what's that like?

"Ha, if the Grammy's do the right thing tonight she'll win it - I know I voted for her!"

You'll also be performing one of your songs - Ruin My Life, can you tell us a bit about what to expect?

"I really wanted this to be visually interesting, but it took me a while to get the right concept for it. I think it's because to me this album and song already feel sort of far removed, and lived in? I'm in a different phase of my life right now, so I had to find a new way to still connet to it. I was really grateful to work with a great art director to bring a different version to the stage."

March, 2026

July, 2026

[SkyNews excerpt]

Lando Norris wins Silverstone GP, dedicates his 20th podium win to his family

The man of the hour is none other than Lando Norris, who’s just gone on to claim his 20th victory at his home race. You’re reading that right, his home race! While he still owns his apartment in Monaco, Norris revealed today that he’s been living back in England for the past few months. “I just wasn’t in the right headspace anymore and wanted to live closer to my family. Especially now that my brother’s kids are growing up, I just like knowing I could drive over – rather than having to fly across countries.”

Speaking on the importance of his family being present, Norris shared that it means everything to him. “In this sport you need to have skill, talent, trust and investment from your team, but also you need that stable sense of safety from the people you love. If your mindset isn’t there, you can’t be competitive.”

Norris has been vocal about mental health in the past, and has advocated for more access to mental healthcare facilities and professionals across motorsport.

“Especially in tougher years where there’s just a lot of noise and turmoil, it’s nice to have a professional coach you to mental fitness as well.”

It was the only notable reference to Norris’ private life, which ended on a low note last year after splitting from long-time girlfriend y/n l/n. The two were originally thought to have had an amicable split, but recent reports hint at a different story, with Norris unfollowing his ex and her friends unfollowing him in return.

August, 2026

September, 2026

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥

Part II can be read here! likes, comments, reblogs are always very much appreciated ♥

[pigeonentity]

au where gabriel uses the peacock instead of emilie, and she's the one left with two miraculous and a child

she inherits the gabriel brand. it's her brand now, ppl have to know it or it doesnt count, but changing name and logo isnt great for business-- people want to buy gabriel, not emilie, so the g is now for graham de vanily. she and adrien change their last names to match, and soon she is cleaning them from gabriel entirely, before his death can stain her as gabriel's emilie, rather than just emilie. she needs them to love her. she cared for gabriel, but she has no use for a husband who can't love anything anymore

she starts dating nathalie to finish cutting all ties with him. it isnt really fair on her, emilie just needs her to tell ppl she's moved on. but it's good to know she's beaten gabriel in one more bid for devotion

its funny. she never resented him much in life. in death, she notes he has more billboards than her up in the city. her billboards now, but theyre his. in death, she sees him over her shoulder in her mirror. she gets cast as a grieving widower in her next performance. she gets the hint. she seizes the hint and throws it out the window. she takes the role and pushes for more agency for her character. she cannot be truly loved without her agency

speaking of. adrien doesnt get to go to school. he follows her around most days, and he smiles when she asks. he never took to the stage, but he's an actor in his own right, in his own way. and he's hers.

and it's not enough. nathalie's love grows lazy as emilie breaks up to cause a scandal. they script it out themselves. nathalie watches adrien out the window. emilie kisses her to turn her gaze back. adrien is always in the garden. she tells him to come inside. she tells him to love her. it used to feel less hollow.

she wishes she could be sure it was all true

she wishes.

she wishes, and nathalie is warmer when they have a mission, so emilie know this is the right thing to do. they know what they have, and what they need, for a wish

emilie transforms, and makes a monster of someone's love

suddenly, the whole world is watching

two girls come out with the cat and ladybug. adrien is safe at home. two girls come out and they're heroes and they're here for her. for her!

nooroo loves her. nooroo says that, at least. she could care less, busy in the glory of her enemies' company, drunk on magic, having the time of her life with a purpose reborn. this is where she is meant to be-- centre stage, on every screen. they set their phones to notify them of her presence. it's always a surprise and they're always quick to know. the news loves to see what she makes. nathalie says she's straying from her goal, if she cares. the people say she's a monster. they just don't understand love

in the end-- in the end the heroes practically offer themselves up to her. there are more of them by then. she wasnt expecting it to be so soon, or she would have dressed for the occasion. would have made a spectacle of it. adrien had been dragged into their circle. they chose a bad miraculous for him. she shouldn't have let him stray from his mother

they're just tired of her. it's been a year and emilie graham de vanily is a recluse. butterfly attacks are constant and emilie barely exists anymore. it was beautiful, though. but they're tired of her. they're sick and they hurt and it's her fault, they say. they're breaking and it's her fault. that's love, isn't it? isn't it? it tastes beautiful. she built this all out of love, do they know that? the feelings just look so heavy and pretty and she's so good at making them hurt.

we're tired, they say, again

she takes their miraculous. she gets to her wish. what did she want to wish for again? love. she wanted love.

she sees gabriel again. it's been too long. she didn't like that love. when it left she had nothing. he was everywhere, and-- he was nowhere. she doesn't think about that often. but it hurt. she didn't like that love

does she want real love? she had a family and one's dead and one's a traitor and one's torn and one's in england and who the fuck knows what happened to the rest of them

the spotlights were good, though. she danced so well. the heroes are all still watching. they want to know what she wants. they're interested.

in her.

she wishes. she wishes for it to never end

so it never does.

[ashwhowrites]

Just found all your wonderful angst fics and honestly I feel like there is a distinct lack of HURTS SO GOOD angst out there. So I am DE-LIGH-TED to have found you. Thank you for your words and your writing. ❤️

But I have a request because of course I do! Eddie Munson!

So: angst: 30, 32 and then fluff: 16 and angry confessions 9 (except if I may be extra needy and request that we change the her in 30 to a them? Twins. One boy and the other authors choice.)

The idea: Eddie and reader started dating at Hawkins High and about a year or two after graduating someone from a label hears the band and wants an EP recorded in an actual studio! The band travels to the nearest studio.

When Eddie returns he tells reader that his dream is coming true the label is ready to sign them and they want them to start touring this year and opening for bigger bands to get their name out.

Reader overhears Eddie talking with the label guy. Eddie wants to bring reader on the tour and label guy shuts it down and says ‘end the relationship so you can actually enjoy the fame.’ He asks if Eddie is gonna marry reader and Eddie gets nervous and says idk, reader is hurt by that. Label guy asks if they have kids and Eddie is a little too enthusiastic in saying no and he doesn’t know if he wants kids. (Insecure about what kind of dad he’d be) and label guy tells Eddie this tour will make or beak his future and he needs no distractions. And a girl back home? Distracting.

Reader is then horrified that she’ll ruin Eddie’s dream. She breaks up with him before the tour, hiding the real reason. She wants him to have his dream even if it kills hers. Eddie leaves on tour mad and heartbroken.

Reader finds out she is pregnant after Eddie leaves. The band is supposed to come back to Hawkins after a few months on tour. Eddie promised he and reader would talk more about their relationship and reader will tell him then.

The band is insanely successful on tour. Eddie doesn’t come back. Doesn’t answer calls, letters. Reader stops trying after a year.

The twins are around five when Eddie, now a known rockstar, returns to his hometown. Meet-cute of adorable twins and Eddie occurs.

You ARE the father!

Eddie and reader talk/fight. But happy ending when all is said and done, back together and a family.

Sorry this is so long but ily and your writing❤️❤️❤️

I hope this is what you wanted and thank you for requesting! I hope you enjoy it 🫶🏻 I did only pick the two you resent, thank you for that! I feel like this fic is a bit all over the place but I think I included everything you asked 🤞🏻

I just sent that long request and I’m so sorry I didn’t see the no more than two limit on the prompt list link. Please feel free to shorten those to angst 30 and fluff 16 Thank you.

"There's not a single reason I can't think of for me to let you see her. You may be her father, but I'm her everything"

"I never thought I could miss someone this much"

"Baby you will not believe what just happened!" Eddie said as he came rushing out from the backroom. He was drenched in sweat, as he finished his set with the band.

"What?" Y/N asked, she pushed back his sweaty bangs and his hands landed on her hips

"This dude from some label liked our set! He wants us to visit his studio and perform a few songs. Then if he likes it, he'll sign us!" Y/N smiled as her boyfriend's eyes were bright with happiness. His smile was so huge and his voice was loud.

"That's amazing, oh my god!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms around him and pulling him into a hug. She didn't mind the sweat, she had been with Eddie for years and grew used to it.

The next day Y/N waited in their small apartment as Eddie attended the studio. She paced through their carpet as she stared at the door. She was so nervous for him, this could be his big break. And if he didn't get it, she wasn't sure how he would handle it.

She ran to the door as she heard the lock turn, giving him no time to walk into the house when she raced out all her questions. He smiled as her mouth ran until she almost lost breath, he leaned in and pecked her lips.

"Good?" he asked, a small chuckle leaving his lips

"Yeah, sorry," she said as she took in as much air as she could. She let him through the door and waited for him to speak. He closed the door and turned to her with a smirk.

"Well?" she asked, smacking his arm as she bounced on her feet

"Want to have sex with a newly signed rockstar?" he asked, opening his arms as he knew his girlfriend too well.

"OH MY GOD!" she screamed with excitement, throwing herself in his arms. She was practically jumping in his arms. He was damn excited too, and his heart felt full of how happy she was for him. He never would have made it without her.

"And! He wants us to tour next month, open for some other bands of his to get our name out there!"

Y/N pulled back to see his face but stayed in his arms.

"Next month? For how long?" she asked. She was happy this was going to happen for him, but she was sad at how fast he would be yanked from her.

"Just a few months, less than a year. But I promise I'm not leaving you behind, okay?" she smiled at his words, nodding as she softly placed her lips on his.

"Shall we celebrate Mr. Rockstar?" she whispered against his lips, teasing him as she bit his lower lip. "In the bedroom."

"I think I wanna celebrate right here," Eddie growled, wasting no time as he smashed his lips on hers and tasted her mouth with his tongue. He pressed her body against the door and was fast to unbuckle his jeans.

~~~

A few days passed when Nick, the label guy, showed up at their apartment. Y/N left Eddie with a kiss and headed to their bedroom as the band talked. The walls were thin so she could hear the conversation, but still wanted to feel as she gave them privacy.

They talked about the basics of everything and Y/N tried not to listen in too much. But once she heard the band leave and her name was brought up, she couldn't help but listen in.

"I want to do this tour, and I know the band wants it. But my girl is here, she and I haven't been separated in years. She is in full support and I want her to come with," Eddie explained. Y/N smiled at his words, her heart beaming with love.

"Does she have a ring on her finger?" Nick asked, Y/N couldn't see his face but he sounded annoyed.

"Well no but-"

"Are you going to put a ring on her finger anytime soon?"

Y/N held her breath as she waited for Eddie's response

Eddie stuttered as his throat felt dry, "Well..I..I don't know." he chuckled uncomfortably

Well that hurt, Y/N thought. They had been together for over three years and he had no time frame of when he wanted to get engaged? Was he even thinking of a ring?

"Got any kids with her?" Nick asked

"Hell no," Eddie laughed, "Pretty sure I don't even want any."

Y/N felt her heart snap into two. This whole time she thought they were dreaming of the same future. She wanted a ring and kids with Eddie, and it hurt like hell that he was on a different page.

"Son, you are about to go on a world tour. You are going to be in a different state every night. Let the girl go and enjoy the fame. This is your first and only chance to make something of yourself. You don't want distractions. She's a chick, and chicks bring drama. You pick Eddie."

Y/N blinked away tears as the front door slammed shut. She was quick to jump in bed when she heard Eddie begin walking to the room.

~

Y/N was up all night as she repeated Nick's words in her head. She couldn't make Eddie choose between his dream and her. She could feel how tense his body was as he slept, Nick's words weighing him down too.

She knew Eddie loved her too much to break up with her, and he wouldn't break his promise of not leaving her behind. But he needed to go, he needed this for his career. She loved him strong enough to let him go without her.

~~~

"Eddie? Can we talk?"

Eddie looked up from his guitar, brown eyes worried. "What's wrong?" He was quick to grab her hand and pull her between his legs. He sat on the bed and she stood before him, tears in her eyes.

"You know how we talked about me staying here while you go on tour?"

"Yeah, but only because of Nick. If I could have it my way, you'd be right there," he said with a smile as he softly rubbed her hand.

She hated how sweet he was, it was making this all much harder.

"I'm a little worried about us being separated that long," she said

"Trust me, I'm coming home to you and none of my feelings are going to change just because of the distance" he tried to reassure her. He knew Y/N was the love of his life and he'd never ruin what they had.

"What if things on the road change your beliefs? You know, what if..." She slowly trailed off.

"What if, what?" He asked, confused as he looked in her eyes for answers.

"What if you meet someone else? There's going to be a lot of girls throwing themselves at you"

"They can throw themselves at me as much as they want, they'd never make me forget about you. I love you and I'd never ruin what we have for a random girl on the road," he explained

"I don't know if I can believe you," she lied, "what if you get in trouble with drugs? And you can't stop and fall addicted? You have many addicts in your family and one weak moment, you might find a girl to make it feel better," she could see her words were starting to take effect on him. His eyes gloss over with anger, but that's what she needed. He didn't need her holding him back and being a distraction.

"Wow," he scoffed, standing up. "I haven't touched any other drug except weed my whole life. And you think I'm that stupid that I'd dive right into hard core shit just because I'm on tour? I can get the same shit down the block!" He argued.

"Have you ever been tempted?" She asked

"Fuck no, but you probably wouldn't believe that either," he said as he rolled his eyes. "I mean we've been together for years, I understand this is a big change for us, but why do you suddenly think I won't have any self control?"

Because I'm making all of this up so you'll leave pissed off and I won't be a distraction, she thought.

She was silent and Eddie felt himself growing angier by it.

"Because I won't be there!"

"Oh now the truth comes out. You don't think I can say no. You think a slutty girl will jump on my lap and you think I'll just love it and fuck her. Then she'll bring me to a party with hard drugs and before I know it I'm snorting drugs off her body." He laughed, but it had no humor behind it. She knew she was hurting him but that meant everything was working.

"If you really think that I would cheat on you, then maybe we weren't as strong as I thought" he added, his voice a little sad as he sat back down.

"I think it's best if we take a break while you're on tour. And you can do whatever you want on it, and we'll talk when you come back."

Eddie nodded at her words. He didn't agree with anything but he wasn't going to try to change her mind. She had this view of him and he couldn't fix it.

~~~

The first few weeks with Eddie gone was hell. Y/N cried every morning and every night. She was in so much pain and hated she couldn't reach for him. She wanted to call and tell him the truth, that everything was a lie and she did it so he could be happy. But the suffering was becoming too much and she just wanted to be with him again, in his arms and in his heart. She couldn't forget the broken look in his eye when he left, the loudness of the door as it slammed.

She found out she was pregnant, adding more guilt to her life. He was supposed to come home at the end of the month, and he promised before he left that they would talk about their relationship. He didn't want to give up on them and she believed that.

But then the end of the month came and she hadn't heard a word. Her calls went unanswered and his body never walked through the front door. She wanted to tell him she was pregnant when she saw him in person again but she wasn't sure went that would be. She didn't know if he was in town or where he ended up, all she knew was that he wasn't coming back to her right now. She kept calling and wrote letters to his management, but no response.

She waited and waited, maybe the tour added more dates. They were broken up so she didn't expect him to update her on everything but she wished he'd answer at least one call.

She called every day for a year, and never once did her phone ring back.

~~~

Five years passed and she gave up on Eddie, she gave up years ago when he refused to come back to her. She figured she caused too much pain and broke his heart so he moved on. The thought killed her but him being happy was all she wanted in life.

It turned out she was pregnant with twins, a boy and a girl. They reminded her of Eddie, some days it made her happy, and other days it killed her. They didn't know a life with a dad so she never spoke to them about it, and they never asked. To them just having mom was normal and she didn't want to disturb that. Because she honestly didn't think she'd ever see Eddie again.

"Christopher, you need to stop running!" Y/N scolded as she pushed Beverly on the swing set. The boy laughed as he ran faster, his curls bouncing with every step.

She groaned as she gave Beverly another push and then ran after him.

Once she caught him, she got them ready in the car. She loved her kids but damn they were so energetic, and she knew who they got it from.

They looked alike in ways, the same brown curly hair, Beverly's was longer. Same eyes and the same sass.

She sighed in relief when she pulled up to the house, ready to put them in a room and have time to herself. But her stomach turned when a black SUV was parked in the driveway.

"Momma, who's that?" Christopher asked, his curious eyes settled on the car. The windows were dark and they couldn't see in it.

"I don't know. I'll go check, stay here." She said, she got out of the car and walked over to the car. Before she could walk up to knock on the driver's window, the back door opened. She froze in her spot.

Eddie exited out of the car, hair tied up in a bun but a few curls loose on his forehead. He had many more tattoos, his arms covered in ink until it disappeared under his short sleeve. He wore sunglasses, which she was thankful for. She feared if she could see his eyes she'd melt in a puddle.

"Hi stranger, can we talk?"

His voice sent shivers down her spine. She's only heard it on the radio, either his songs or an interview. She never had the heart to turn it, always wondering if he was happy. If chasing him away was the right decision.

"I...I... Eddie...I" she stuttered, completely in shock as he stood in front of her. He was real, and he was here, after five long years. "I can't right now, but tonight? I can meet you somewhere." She said, her eyes looking back to her car and then to him.

He looked at her car and looked back, he couldn't see inside but he knew there was someone she didn't want him to see. He figured it was a new boyfriend or something, he couldn't help but look down at her hand. Relief in his stomach when he didn't see a ring. She must have not lived alone, he suspected since she didn't want him inside.

"Sure, had to get a new number so here," he said as he handed her a piece of paper. "Text me when and where and I'll be there."

She smiled as she took the piece of paper, hoping she was covering how much anxiety she had.

"You look incredible, by the way." He said as he got in the car. She watched as the door slammed and the car backed out of the driveway.

~

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Steve asked. Steve was one of her best friends from high school and he knew the truth about everything. He was the godfather to her kids and he spoiled the crap out of them. But he was also her rock, she couldn't imagine doing everything on her own.

"It's just dinner, Steve," she said as she tore apart her closet.

"Just dinner?" He chuckled, "Then why did you take half an hour in the shower, and now tearing apart your closet for something sexy to wear?" He asked, a smirk on his face as she froze.

She coughed and yanked the dress off the hanger. "I don't know what you're talking about"

Steve laughed as her bathroom door closed. "I suppose I'll take the kids and leave!"

"I'll call you when I'm on my way to pick them up!" She said through the door

~

Y/N felt like she was going on a first date all over again. Her stomach was filled with butterflies, but all the fluttering made her feel like she was going to be sick.

She knew Eddie, but she didn't know this new version of him. She didn't know the Rockstar and the man with all the fame.

She wasn't sure why he wanted to talk. It has been five years and she accepted he'd never come back to her. But now he was but for what? Did he want to get back together? Even though they haven't talked in five years. Did he want to rub it in her face that he made it big without her? Thank her for being the reason he left in the first place?

She swallowed nervously as she walked into the small restaurant, the lights were dim creating a romantic atmosphere. Eddie was already at a table, sipping on a beer.

"Sorry, hope you weren't waiting long," she said as she took a seat.

He perked up in his seat, "No I just got here, you're fine." He said with a smile. She forgot how calm she felt near him, seeing his smile and eyes made all her anxiety melt away.

"I told you she would show up!" The young waiter said as he patted Eddie on the back. Eddie gave the waiter a side eye as his face blushed. "At least you only had to wait half an hour, a guy last night waited two full hours before he gave up." The waiter laughed.

Y/N and Eddie were quick to order another drink and send him on his way. Eddie wanted to smack his head against the table once he left.

"Thirty minutes? Thought you just got here," she teased, laughing softly.

"Little white lie," he chuckled

They laughed until it died in silence. They stared silently at each other, memorizing each other's faces.

"That's a beautiful dress," Eddie said. A nervous cough followed and he took a swig of his beer. She made him nervous, he felt like he was meeting her for the first time all over again. Everything he said or did tonight had to impress her. Almost like he had to win her over.

"Oh thank you," she said as she pushed down the material on her thighs. "You look good, and the new tattoos are incredible." She complimented, itching to push up his sleeve and see how far up the tattoos went. She wondered if he had any more in other places, and how many different women got to see them, feel them, and trace them. She used to trace his ink after sex all the time, and her stomach felt unsettled thinking about all the other women who touched his new ink before she had the chance. She never thought she'd share his body with anyone new, it was hers for life, at least it used to be.

"Thank you," he said. He was guilty of thinking the same thing she was. He wanted to reach over the table and run her fingers up and down his arm. He craved to feel her soft touch on his skin, tracing the shapes and planting wet kisses on his neck. He shivered at the memories that played through his head.

"How was, uh tour?" She asked. She knew bringing it up would make them uncomfortable, and she was right. The second tour left her lips, and both of their bodies went stiff.

"It was great," he said, unable to look in her eyes as he traced the top of his glass. "Touring for five years seems crazy now, but once I started I didn't want to stop."

She felt his words hit her like a blow, but he got his dream.

"I'm really glad it worked out and you guys got to tour for many more years." She meant it. Even though the space between them killed her, she couldn't have been more proud of him.

"Yeah, but I'm back in town for good. And I know when I left things weren't right between us. I don't know if you are seeing someone or anything, but I came back to you for a reason," he explained. He played with his rings, showing her he was just as nervous about this conversation as she was.

"What's the reason, Eddie?" She asked, but she had a good feeling about what he was going to say. And if he did say it, she was going to get pissed.

"I miss you and I miss us. I thought if I kept the tour going, I'd never have to face how shitty everything was without you."

"Do you remember when you promised me we'd talk about it when you came back? As in years ago? I was waiting for you. I was waiting like a god damn idiot. You miss me? Well, screw you." She spat, already planning to stand up but he was quick to grab her hand and pull her back down.

"I know! Okay, I know. I was pissed off when I left and hurt that you believed I would ever cheat on you. I was angry and each time I performed I got more angry. I was singing about a girl that didn't trust me to not fuck up without her there. It fucked with my head and I started to wish I hated you, and that broke my heart." He explained, "Then you'd call and all I wanted to do was answer and tell you how bad you fucked with my head. That this tour was supposed to be everything to me and I hated every second of it because all I could think about was if you were trusting me or not." Eddie ranted, trying his best to stay calm.

"If you were so mad at me that you wanted to hate me, why didn't you at least try to talk to me?"

"You broke up with me, I didn't want to talk to you. Is that so wrong of me?" Eddie asked

"I mean no, but at least one phone call would have been nice. Even if you told me to fuck off and never talk to you again, at least it would have told me where we stood. I waited for you to come home and you didn't bother to tell me you changed your mind. You talked about not changing, but you did change. You broke a promise, and you never break those." She argued, taking deep breaths as she felt the need to cry.

"I'm sorry that I never communicated. I was at these parties and girls were throwing themselves at me, just like you said. I didn't want any of them, never even blinked in their direction. I wanted to prove that I could be someone you could trust. And then I thought I shouldn't have to prove that to you because I've been loyal since the day we got together. What you said wasn't fair. I'm being as honest as I can. You broke my heart and I wanted to hurt you." He felt bad for saying it but he never told her how much pain she caused him.

"Everything you felt was valid. I did ask for a break and I put us in that situation. I'm really sorry for hurting you. But I can explain why," she sighed

"I didn't want to break up or anything. I wanted to stay together, no matter how long you would be gone. I love you, Eddie and that never changed. But I was scared that if you stayed with me, you'd regret it."

"Baby, why would I ever regret you?" His voice sounded sad. She sniffled back tears and continued.

"I overheard you and Nick talking. I was fine with staying back and letting you go alone. Nick didn't want distractions and that was fine. But Eddie asked about marriage and kids. He asked you what future you planned to have with me, and you didn't have an answer. You laughed at the idea and that hurt. I couldn't put myself through long distance, waiting for you to come home, when you weren't even sure if I was the one for life. I lied and made all of that shit up so you would want to leave me. And so you could go on the tour without our distance dragging you down. And I think I also did it to protect myself. Because if I waited for you and you came back with a change of heart, I wouldn't ever recover."

"I do want to marry you, I've always wanted that. He wanted a time frame and I panicked. I knew I'd marry you, but I had no idea how soon it would be. I know I waited long and you're completely valid to protect yourself. Putting a date on it scared me and I'm sorry that I didn't handle it well. And for the kids," Y/N felt her body stiffen. She felt like she was holding her breath, terrified of what he'd say. "I'm scared too. I don't know if I have what it takes to be a dad. You are perfect and always perfect at everything. I think I could be a good husband to you, but I don't think I'd keep up to be a good dad like you would be as a mom. I'm scared to fail you." He confessed, his eyes turning red as tears slipped down his cheek. The tip of his nose was red as more tears fell.

"What about now? It's been five years. Was all that time away enough for you to commit to me like that?" She asked

"I thought about you the whole time and once I got my head out of my ass I went straight to you. I haven't seen anyone, family or friends. I got off the plane and headed to you. I've been mad at you but realized that never took away any of my love for you. There was never a girl that could make me forget about you. I want you and I'd marry you right now at the courthouse if you asked me to." And he meant it.

"We both hurt each other, and both said things we didn't mean. We've matured and grown up a little more. I think we can start on a clean slate?" Y/N asked, reaching over to offer her hand

Eddie smiled and shook it, a clean slate.

~~~

A few weeks passed since Eddie and Y/N talked. They agreed to just start as friends, and not jump into anything. Y/N wanted to get back together but she knew it would get complicated once her kids were involved.

She didn't have a plan to introduce them, and that backfired.

Eddie showed up unannounced at the house, he still had his key and he walked right in.

Y/N was giving Beverly a bath, music playing from the small speaker on the counter. Y/N laughed as Beverly blew bubbles around the room. Christopher was in his room, loudly banging trucks together. Everyone was unaware of Eddie walking through the house.

Eddie couldn't help but look at how much their home changed. It was clear children lived here, from the small plates, cups, and toys on the floor. The pictures on the wall caught his attention, his eyes glued to the photographs.

She had a family, she had two small kids. The beauty of all three of them took Eddie's breath away. She had a boy and girl on each side of her, and both kids had dark curly hair. He gulped, the kids looked identical to him.

Eddie heard laughing coming from the bathroom, and he followed the sound. He walked down that hallway a thousand times and never pictured he'd hear a little girl's laugh coming from it. He softly pushed the cracked door open.

His heart warmed at the sight, he knew Y/N would be a good mother but seeing it was something else. The way she smiled so big and the pure joy on her face, it killed Eddie to know how much he missed out.

Eddie coughed to get her attention

"Eddie?" she gasped in shock

"Can we talk?" He asked, his eyes looking to the small girl in the tub

~

"A clean slate and you didn't bother to tell me I had two fucking kids?" Eddie hissed, keeping his voice low as both kids were settled in the bedroom.

"A clean slate for us, my kids have nothing to do with you," Y/N fought back

"Nothing to do with me? I'm their father!"

"No, you're not! You helped me make them, sure. But your name is not on the birth certificate, they don't know you, and they don't have your last name. I'm sorry but there's not a single reason I can't think of for me to let you see them. You may be their father, but I'm their everything" Y/N said, trying to keep her emotions in check.

"That's not fair, I never got a chance," he argued

"You did! Do you think I called you for a whole year just because I was clingy? All you had to do was answer the fucking phone or better yet, showed up when you said you would." She spat, her voice filled with anger as she shoved past him.

He followed her into the bedroom, closing the door.

"You could have left a message!"

He stepped back when she pushed a finger against his chest and went head to head-with him.

"Listen, you don't get to make this my fault. I called, I tried, and I sure as hell did my fucking part" she hissed through her clenched teeth.

Eddie knew he was in the wrong so he backed down, he gently grabbed the finger on his chest and brought it down to her side. He held her hand and spoke softly,

"You're right. You tried and It's all on me that I never picked up. I understand why I don't have a place. But I'm here now, and I want to be here. I want to be a family."

Y/N turned her head away as she blinked away tears, she could feel her walls breaking down. He touched her cheek and turned her head to face him.

"I know you are their everything, but I want to help you. Let me be their dad, please," he begged, he slowly leaned in, "You've always been everything to me, and I want them to be everything to me too. We can be a family, I'm not going anywhere."

She cried as she leaned in as well, "I want to be a family too"

"Can I kiss you?" he whispered

She nodded and leaned in, she moaned as she felt his lips on hers again. His soft touch on her skin and the desperation of his kiss made her stomach flutter.

He pulled away slowly, his eyes locked on hers

"I never thought I could miss someone this much" he whispered before he leaned in again.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

[greenandsorrow]

IF THE MONSTER UNDER YOUR BED NEVER HURT YOU, MAYBE IT WAS THERE TO PROTECT YOU. 🎈

Pennywise bonding with a teen!reader/ platonic

-> For technical reasons (for the plot to continue plotting), this chap focuses mostly on the past! Another thing... I appreciate your feedback and comments more than you realise, so don't hesitate to interact with my fics 🥺❣️

-> It's giving Stockholm Syndrome, I'm aware, but that's why it's called fanFICTION.

-> I think it's funny how each chapter turns longer than the last. I'm getting hooked to my own writing I guess.

-> Pennywise the Dancing Clown: A trans-dimensional entity that shapeshifts and feeds on the fear -and sometimes the flesh- of kids and animals. IT hibernates for 25 to 27 years, then wakes up for 12 to 16 months, manipulating reality and slipping past the notice of adults.

Listen to: Ilomilo by Billie Eilish

~ 3 ~

Pennywise's POV 🎈

For five long years he has stayed awake, stalking the streets of Derry... waiting. Pennywise's usual cycle -hibernating after a killing and terrorizing spree- has been disrupted. This time, something -someone- kept him from descending to the deep slumber he usually craves.

He can't fully understand it, but it's because of you -the spark, the tug of connection he isn't familiar with. He's hunted countless children without a second thought. But with you... When he had expected you to cower and break, instead, you had resisted, you had played his twisted games and stared back at him without losing your soul. You had made him so curious. And that curiosity has gnawed at him enough to eat away at his rest, putting him in a sort of restless trance.

Every time he tries to slip beneath the Earth and to return to the darkness he came from, he feels a pull, a shudder that makes him cling to the surface for just a little more, for just another silly, little, stupid, meek year.

But as the years have been slipping by, something else has shifted in him as well -a subtle thing that feels almost like restraint. He still lurks in the shadows, his instincts are still telling him to frighten and to feed… but each time he sees you, that impulse falters. Instead of scaring you, he finds himself watching, almost guarding you from afar.

It feels a twinge of protectiveness -an urge that should definitely not exist in a creature made to hunt and devour. It doesn't get it, doesn't know why It lingers to ensure no danger befalls you, before It vanishes for the usual twenty-seven years. Almost as though, Pennywise the Clown is bound to you by something unexplainable, something that's kept him from retreating to sleep.

And It hates it.

The longer Pennywise watches, the more he wishes he didn't feel this way. But when he does try to stir up the familiar darkness within his core, it's dulled and quieted. All he knows is that his hunger has been overpowered by something else, something… protective.

And this fact is as unnatural as it is inappropriate, for no other than The Eater of Worlds.

1979 Derry, Maine

"Let's play another game..! I... There is... There's one we haven't played!"

The door creaked open and the clown stepped inside with a look you had never seen before on him. He wasn't smiling, wasn't performing... he was serious, unsettlingly so. A reminder that Pennywise wasn't -and isn't- a real clown, not in the way he pretends to be. Drool slipped from his red lips, glistening in the early morning light filtering through a crooked and badly shut window. He had probably just interrupted his breakfast -maybe to see you- and the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.

"What kind of game?" his voice rumbled low, sending a chill across your skin. Your stomach tightened and you swallowed down the bile that rose. His piercing, yellow gaze left you feeling exposed.

You struggled to think of something, anything that could buy you more time. You had to say something, or else he would just get pissed and maybe have you for breakfast, instead of the one he was -so rudely- interrupted from.

"The first one to… If I can name one friend before you do, I get to leave. If you win… You get to do whatever you want with me." You knew you were cornered, but the words had come out anyway.

A strange look flickered across his face.

"What's your name?"

You frowned at what sounded like an absurd thing to ask out of the blue. "Y/n."

He giggled.

"Oh really?! And I'm Pennywise the Dancing Clown! Now we've both properly introduced ourselves... We can be friends!!!"

The point of the game was for you to win... but he just had to be a smartass.

"WE CAN'T- CAN'T BE FRIENDS!"

Pennywise pouted, almost like a child who's just been told no. You could see the contradiction in him as he considered your words -a clown who loves games, whose eyes practically gleam with excitement... and yet a predator who's always calculating, always one step ahead, keeping his prey exactly where he wants it. He knew you had just tried to outsmart him, yet he stepped closer, drawn in by the idea of another game. Your captor knew way more about you than you had realized -he had been watching you long before he had decided to 'kidnap' you.

Actually, your desperate answer made him leave his spot by the doorframe and advance toward you, crouching down to your eye level. You were paralyzed in fear he could probably smell. Even while holding your breath, you could feel his own on your face... It smelled like a butcher's shop.

"Don't. Shout. At. Me."

You nodded.

His drool was still glistening.

"You're not leaving either."

Another nod.

Then, he left the room.

Later, you'd realize he had let you have your way with that idiotic game purely out of boredom -a way to break up the ancient routine It'd followed since the beginning of time. But in that moment, you were just trying to survive.

What happened next is clouded in fragments, your memory blurred by fear -or maybe it's nostalgia. Somehow, over time, you became something to him. Indeed... a friend... of sorts.

As more days passed, you dared to start speaking more freely, filling the silence between you. You'd mention that you were cold, or hungry and he would tilt his head in that curious way of his. The next day, a bag of chips might appear on the bed. Once, you coughed, your throat parched. Fortunately, you managed to murmur "water". A few hours later, there it was -water in a bowl.

You found your book -Alice in Wonderland- left in a corner of the room. You read to him, each word trembling from your lips but never letting your voice falter fully. Pennywise would sit at the edge of the bed, sometimes even curling up like a cat -making you question if he had any bones-, his gaze fixed on you with an unnerving intensity. You were scared that when you finished reading the book, your life would end along with Alice's story.

But it didn't.

Still, sometimes you made desperate attempts to escape, bolting to the door. But he'd catch you with a taunting grin.

"Tag, you're it!" he'd chuckle, pinning you effortlessly. "Winner gets a prize!" he'd mock, as if the only reward he needed was to see your defeated face. But despite the mocking, the punishing appearances of the enormous cockroach stopped.

Even his gaze softened over time, slipping from the predator's yellow stare to an electric blue. The games also shifted -grew less cruel- and with them, so did he. He no longer seemed intent on hurting you and instead, observed you with a cautious neutrality.

Each day It brought you random bowls of food and water -most likely stolen from unsuspecting housewives... And sometimes, It would linger just outside the door, listening to your voice as you read to yourself.

One evening, you found yourself in the backyard, gazing up at a lilac sky. He had taken you there -unbeknownst to you- because he had brought a little snack inside and didn't want that to scare you.

You missed your old life with a pang that made your throat burn, a feeling so deep you didn't even notice him approaching. Without thinking, you pressed yourself into the clown's chest, burying your face against his ruffled collar. His strange scent -a mix of damp earth and something much older- washed over you and for the first time, you felt… safe with him.

He didn't hug you back, didn't mimic the gesture, but his voice murmured strange words about humans, their fragile nature and then the usual pet name he would call you: "little one".

It was then that you realized -he wouldn't hurt you. Not now. Not after all this time. But the realization broke something in you, a dam holding back all the emotions that had been bubbling under the surface.

"Y- You won. You won!" you stammered, choking back tears. "I'm your friend! Kill me now!"

You collapsed to your knees and he watched -bewildered- as tears streamed down your face. For a moment, he just stood there and watched you cry. Then, tentatively, he reached out in an almost inquisitive manner, to catch a tear with a long, white finger and taste it. He seemed to pause, reflecting on something only he could understand.

And then on another day, another attempt to escape. You had found a tiny window in the basement and tried to squeeze through it. But he noticed, his monstrous form scraping against the window's frame, shattering the glass in a frenzy to reach you.

When you saw the shards cutting into his skin... You froze, guilt flooding over you. You returned to his side while murmuring apologies, your hands trembling as you pulled the glass from his wounds, piece by piece.

He didn't attack you -just stared at you with a seriousness that sent chills down your spine. You knew in that moment, that you had crossed a line, that there was something between you that shouldn't have been there -because you could've left but didn't and because he could've killed you but didn't either.

When you finished pulling out the glass pieces, he was pouting at you. "Meanie..." he said and stuck his tongue out.

In the days that followed, Pennywise grew quieter. He watched you differently, as if seeing you with new eyes -ones that held a warmth you'd never expected. And in a way, it made you feel… comfortable. Comfortable enough that one day, you dared to reach out, brushing a hand along his white cheek.

He froze under your touch, as if unsure how to react -his usually fierce, yellow eyes softening to that strange blue. A low sound rumbled from him -somewhere between a purr and a growl- and he tilted his head, pressing into your hand like a cat, seeming almost… content.

But that wasn't right. He wasn't human and he definitely wasn't a pet. It was something ancient and boundless... and yet here It was, in its favorite form, accepting your touch and even starting to crave it. You pulled your hand away and his eyes opened, watching you in a way that felt unexpectedly intimate.

Time continued to flow onward.

You were now given strange meals in even stranger containers -a cracked bowl, a chipped mug, even a metal dish that you could have sworn was meant for a dog! He didn't seem to understand the details of human routines, didn't quite grasp what you needed beyond food and water. Yet he tried, even if it were in ways that felt utterly alien.

One evening, just as the sun began to dip, you asked if you could go outside again. You hadn't meant it as a real question, but in the morning, you found the door to the backyard unlocked.

You didn't dare leave the property, but you enjoyed how the air was fresh and the grass was soft and the sky a little cloudy. You stayed out until evening came.

Pennywise watched you from a distance, the colors of the twilight reflecting in his eyes, giving him an almost haunting beauty. He joined you, sitting in the overgrown grass... murmuring things in a language that sounded both ancient and musical, like whispers from an old spell.

In the quiet, you leaned against him, letting the stillness speak for you both. And though he didn't return the gesture, just like last time, he didn't pull away either. You looked up at the stars, feeling that deep ache for home... He patted your head in a comforting manner... and in that moment you could almost believe he was a friend.

You were just a kid, but even with your naivety, deep down you knew the truth -he was a monster that had killed before and would kill again. Yet for now, he seemed content with your presence, more curious than threatening. He tilted his head, watching you with softness in his gaze, as if pondering the mystery of your existence.

Somewhere in your heart, you felt the shift. Pennywise, the monster, had grown attached to you. And you… well, you couldn't deny the attachment had become mutual.

The days blurred together even more after that, filled with silly games, with quiet moments and fragments of a bond you could neither define nor understand.

And yet, even as you tried to push away the thought, you feared that someday he might wake up and no longer see you as friend, or even as a curiosity, but as something he was hungry for once more. Still, in the quiet of the night it felt like a small, tragic eternity -two beings from worlds apart, drawn together and held by something both tender and terrifying.

The last days in the house at Neibolt St were the strangest. Pennywise grew quiet, almost pensive, as if some hidden clock was winding down inside him. You noticed how his smiles and giggles were fading, as if the game he'd once delighted in was losing its thrill. Sometimes, he would simply watch you with an unreadable expression, his eyes that odd, bright blue that almost felt... sad.

You felt a pang of sympathy for him. For all his power and for all his malevolence, he was still somehow... alone. You had felt it in those strange moments when -almost wistfully- he'd listen to you talk and read.

The last night felt different, filled with an air of finality.

As you laid on your creaky bed, you noticed him standing in the corner of the room, like some sort of sleep paralysis demon. He was staring at you with an intensity that used to scare you three months ago. You felt the impulse to speak, but you knew he wouldn't respond. Instead, you held his gaze, feeling a strange sense of sorrow settle over you.

When he finally spoke, his voice was almost too soft to hear.

"Little one, when you leave…will you forget about me?"

The question caught you off guard and you didn't know how to answer. You wanted to tell him that you wouldn't, that everything you'd been through would be impossible to forget. But Pennywise knew that memories could fade, that as you grew older, the edges of this nightmare would blur.

You just stared at him, searching for the right words.

His eyes held a strange depth, a rawness you hadn't seen before. But he didn't wait for your answer. He simply turned, drifting back into the shadows as he whispered...

"The game isn't over."

And as he vanished, you were left in the cold darkness, with the silence pressing down around you like a final embrace. You clutched your knees to your chest, feeling the weight of those words settle heavily in your heart. You knew that even if you did forget him one day, some part of him would linger -an echo in the back of your mind, a memory that would never truly die.

That night, as sleep began to take you, you imagined him in the backyard... looking up at the stars and wondering if you'd remember.

It really felt like something precious had been taken away from you too early.

The next morning, you woke up in your own bed, in your home in Witchham Street.

For a moment you thought you'd died... Εveryone around you acted as though you'd never disappeared, as if those harrowing months at Neibolt hadn't happened at all. But there was one particular detail that hinted otherwise... A red balloon, floating silently at the edge of your bed.

That morning, you also got your period for the first time.

Stepping outside, the daylight was so bright and so warm, a stark contrast to the darkness you'd lived in for weeks. You squinted at the light, feeling almost as though you'd stepped into another world. It was hard to believe that just the night before, you had been in his arms -you had been seeking comfort from the monster who had held you captive.

Part of you seriously considered whether it had all been just a dream. Still, for days, you felt his absence like a missing heartbeat.

The world around you seemed much louder and the colors almost too vivid. Sometimes, you'd catch yourself looking for him in the shadows, half expecting to see his shape looming in the corners of your room.

At night you'd lie awake, thinking of his strange question...

"When you leave… will you forget me?"

You didn't know how to answer, even to yourself.

As much as you wanted to return to your old life and to move on from that nightmare, you felt a small part of you ache with the loss. You had lived through something impossible, something that had left you changed.

There was no going back to who you were before.

Over time though, the memory of him faded into something almost surreal. You didn't speak of it to anyone -the words felt fragile and sacred, as if telling the story might diminish it.

But the craziest thing that happened? You continued living as if everything was perfectly normal.

You only thought of Pennywise again that Christmas, in 1979...

The holidays had come to Derry and your family decorated the house with lights and garlands, the scents of pine and cinnamon clinging to every corner. There were gifts under the tree and snow falling outside the windows. Everything was festive and happy.

But when you woke up in your cozy little bedroom -on the 24th-, near the foot of your bed laid a single, crumpled sunflower. It must've been from the patch in the backyard where you'd sometimes sit with him, where the wildflowers had managed to grow despite the gloom. You held it gently, careful not to disturb its fragile petals. It felt like a memento of your time together -a reminder that what you had shared was real, however bizarre and terrifying.

On some nights, when the world was silent, you'd find yourself reaching for that sunflower, feeling the dried petals crumble beneath your fingertips. You'd lie awake, wondering where he was -if he still remembered, if he still waited. And though you'd never say it out loud, a small part of you hoped he did. Because no matter how much time passed, no matter how much you grew or changed, there was one truth you could never deny... He had left his mark on you, a scar that you'd carry forever.

And somewhere out there, you felt certain, Pennywise was waiting.

In the years that followed, you held onto those fleeting memories. They had a strange, magnetic pull -a mix of terror and fascination. You couldn't help but feel that if you let them slip, if you completely forgot, you'd be leaving behind a piece of yourself.

The Losers helped ground you.

They were your anchors to the present, pulling you back to laughter, to familiar faces and to the warmth of friends who shared their own scars and secrets. They never asked about the nightmares that sometimes made you stir, the shadows you occasionally saw out of the corner of your eye. And you never told them.

But there were also moments -quiet and lonely moments- when the weight of it all crept back, haunting you with unspoken questions. You'd wonder if he thought of you, if he missed you in his own twisted way. Did he ever feel the same hollow ache?

And deep down, you even wondered what might happen if he came back. Would he be nice and protecting? Or would he be just as monstrous and alien as before?

On some other nights, when the wind picked up, you swore you could feel his gaze -a distant yet familiar watchfulness that was both comforting and unnerving. It was as though he was still guarding you.

And so you moved forward, feeling the tug of those memories lessen but never fully vanish.

Would he stay away? Or would there come a day when that half-remembered monster with the childlike heart would find his way back to you?

1984 Derry, Maine

You tell yourself you hate Pennywise.

You tell yourself that, because you have to believe it is true, because that's the only way to move on. But deep inside your mind you can still feel him -his question echoing faintly in you, lesser and lesser each year, like a bond stretching thinner and thinner.

Currently, you're pondering over a glass of Cherry Coke. Yesterday, Bill had asked you about your dreams. He wanted to know if the clown that took away his little brother haunted you as well. You had simply shaken your head 'no', but the truth was the complete opposite.

Until you turned fifteen, Pennywise was still in your dreams. You remember those dreams even more vividly than your days in the house on Neibolt St...

You always had a strong imagination, which came with vivid dreams and equally vivid nightmares. In those dreams, Pennywise would come to you whenever you were scared. He'd pull you close in that tender way he never did in reality, fighting off every dark shape in your mind and then wrapping you in a kind of warmth you can't explain with words.

Sometimes, you'd apologize to him in those dreams -feeling an unnamed guilt- and he'd boop your nose with a soft and soothing "It's okie-dokie, Y/n."

Sometimes there'd be a red balloon waiting by your bed when you woke up, or maybe floating outside your school window. And on one specific evening, when the sadness felt like too much to bear, he appeared at the edge of your bed instead of the balloon. He hugged you and stayed with you until morning came, his glowing eyes softly illuminating the darkness. For once, they didn't scare you.

But as you grew up, you began to dream of him differently. In the nightmares, he'd chase you with a crooked smile and eyes that were dark with hunger, until you couldn't run anymore. Then you'd turn, tears streaming down your face, pleading with him and saying you were sorry over and over. You could never remember why you were sorry, but you knew that somewhere deep inside... you had hurt him. And somehow, you couldn't shake the feeling that it was you who'd let him down.

You tried to explain this to him, even though it was only in dreams -your Penny, who had watched over you. But he still seemed sad. So the dreams began to fade and he stopped showing himself altogether. Even then, you could still feel his presence, as if he was looking over you but choosing to stay hidden.

The few glimpses you have left are rather strange. Once, you had a dream with an uncanny intensity. It was the first different kind of dream -a dream where Pennywise was there as well, but puzzled, as you began to see him through a different lens. It left you feeling unsettled. Not sure what it meant, only that it somehow changed everything.

And still, each time you're scared, you call out for him in your dreams. You search, even while knowing he won't appear like he used to. Maybe it's because you had once blurted out that he was a killer, that he took innocent people like Georgie. It's all so blurry now, all these things you can't quite remember but can't entirely forget either.

You miss him.

You know Georgie's disappearance and so many others are somehow linked to that clown. But if his pattern is to stay on Earth for a year and hibernate for two decades (like Ben figured out), why then, hasn't he gone to sleep in five? It's almost as though he can't bring himself to leave.

Maybe you are asking too many questions. Or maybe you are starting to find the answers...

You're just a girl. And he… he's a boy in a strange, unfathomable way.

There are times when you think he's gone for good. But then there are other times -like when Oscar, the thick orange cat you've taken to caring for, curls up by you in a way that feels just a little too familiar. His stare, intense and watchful, feels more like an any ordinary cat.

You call him Oscar, but maybe -just maybe- you know it's him.

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[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 3,593 Pairing: Negan Smith x Reader Reader pronouns: not really specified, but Negan calls you "doll" and "darlin'" often Warnings: language (the usual), some flirty!Negan Era: Alexandria, post-Negan Summary: Negan and the reader must weather the storm and the horde overnight and find someway to get back to Alexandria. A/N: Sorry this came later than I hoped to get it out. This is why I try to 1.) never write two series at once and 2.) never make a posting schedule because I usually can't adhere to it haha some parts just take longer to get right... so thanks for your patience and HAPPY WICKED WEDNESDAY! Previous part - Part 3

The storm overhead was still raging. Tucked away in the basement mostly underground you heard it only as a dull roar. The wind occasionally whistled and howled lending a haunting soundtrack to your sheltering.

Negan had dug out a couple sleeping bags and used one to cushion his seat on another box of supplies, his back leaned up against the wall and his long legs kicked out toward you.

“Can I have that?” you asked, gesturing to the other bag. You were sitting on the floor and the concrete was cold. He tossed it over to you and you folded it and placed it underneath yourself, sitting down in more comfort. You sighed and leaned back against the wall behind you, shutting your eyes for a moment. You could feel Negan looking at you.

“You’re really not going to tell me anything about you?” You cracked one eye open and looked at him, drawing a laugh from deep in his chest. It was resonant and warm, like the sound from a rosewood guitar. “We’ve been doing this for—I don’t know, three months now and I don’t know a damn thing besides your name,” Negan said, twirling the fireplace poker in his hand.

You sighed and sat up again. “What do you want to know?”

“What’d you do before all this?”

“Before the outbreak?”

“Yeah. Before everything went to shit.”

“Uhh… actually, I was a stripper.”

Negan froze, a shit-eating grin growing on his face. “Really?”

“No!” you laughed. “But it seems like you were hoping for something juicy like that,” you said with a self-satisfied smirk. “God, it’s so easy it’s not even fun!”

He laughed heartily. “Alright, smartass… But can you blame me? Shit, I was about to ask for a private performance.”

“I’m sure you were,” you retorted.

“I noticed that you still didn’t answer the question,” Negan said.

“Oh, that’s funny,” you said with a smile. It crinkled the corners of your eyes and Negan found himself suddenly gulping, nervous. He was nervous? “You know, it’s not like I really know a ton about you either.”

“Well, you know about my Savior days. That’s more than I know about you.”

“Is it?” you asked, one of your eyebrows arching.

Negan felt as if a continent shifted inside him when you looked at him like that; inquiring and graceful and steady. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged. “I think—and this is just my opinion, but I think that was a mask,” you said. “It’s almost as if you were playacting. But maybe you convinced yourself that it was the real you or maybe it was in some ways, for a time, and so everyone else around you believed it. It was convincing to watch.”

Negan gulped. He had that same sensation again, as if you were seeing into his core, his true center. “Jesus, doll, maybe fucking warn me before you say some shit like that again.” But there was no trace of jest or sarcasm in his voice and his expression was sincere as he stared back at you. His hazel eyes looked like there was a glow in them that was shifting like the heat moving over the coals of a fire. Was it turmoil? He drew in a deep breath. “Well, what’s the difference, if I was pretending or not? I still did what I did.”

��It matters,” you replied softly. “First of all, because it’s painful to not be seen, to not have your true self perceived, to be invisible in a way. And—when you’ve been hiding in any kind of shadow for a long time, like behind a mask, it’s all the more painful to—to seek out the light, to feel. To be awake. It’s easier to just—pretend.”

Negan’s brow furrowed heavily as you spoke and his hands were still on the iron rod, fingers curled around the chill of the metal. “You’re talking as if you know something about that,” he replied.

You smiled at him vaguely, sighing a little and leaning your head back against the wall again. “Maybe I’m just observant.”

“Alright,” he nodded. His tongue swept out over his bottom lip. “Well, you know about Savior Negan, whether it was a mask or not… and you know that I was a high school gym teacher and coach, and I still know absolutely fuck-all about you,” he said.

“Correct,” you replied.

Negan sighed, looking disappointed. He stared around the room aimlessly for a moment, clicking his tongue thoughtfully and spinning the iron rod in his hand. “What’s your favorite color?” he asked suddenly.

You laughed. “So, you’re switching to small talk now?”

He shrugged. “What the hell else are we gonna do?”

It seemed harmless enough. “Green,” you said.

“Green,” he nodded. “Hmm. Favorite food?”

You shot him an amused look. “Is this even entertaining?”

He only shrugged again and smiled at you expectantly.

“Raspberries,” you said.

“That’s lucky,” he said, scratching at his beard. “You can still get those. In fact, aren’t there a bunch of raspberry plants back home?”

Your eyebrows lifted. “Did you just say back home?” you asked.

“Oh. Shit! Fuck me sideways, doll, I think I did,” he laughed, looking stunned himself. He let out a scoff and shook his head.

“That was… unexpected,” you replied.

“Well, how long do you have to live someplace before you call it home? Even in a cell, I guess time matters.”

“I don’t know. Home has always been a feeling for me, more than a place,” you said.

“Hmm. That seems like it could be telling,” Negan said, absently rubbing a hand over his beard again.

You rolled your eyes. “Now who sounds like a shrink?” you retorted. He laughed a little and shrugged.

“Alright. Green. Raspberries. Got it. Next question…”

“Negan…” you laughed, rubbing a hand over your face, feeling suddenly bashful at his probing and focused interest in you.

“Come on, doll. Just humor me.” He sighed and stretched, thinking. “Favorite season?”

“I can’t choose a favorite. I like different things about all of them.” Then, you paused thoughtfully. “But fuck southern summers.”

Negan smiled widely. “I can agree to that. What was your first car?”

“Pfft… the city bus,” you said. “You’re really scraping the bottom of the barrel here on the questions.”

“I’m—working up to the really interesting ones… But really? You never had a car? Not even a rusty shitbox?”

You shook your head. “Nope. In fact, I didn’t even learn to drive until after the outbreak.”

Negan’s eyebrows lifted and his eyes widened. “Fuckin’ hell. That must have been terrifying. Everything shut down and you were just—”

“—stuck,” you finished. You were staring down at your hands and fiddling with a loose string on the hem of your shirt. “Though, most of the roadways were pretty clogged up quickly so it probably didn’t matter all that much. The only people who got out of the cities anyway were the ones who left as soon as there was a whiff of trouble. And then came the riots and the bombings and—”

A shadow darkened Negan’s face. “Fucking hell. You were in a city city when shit went down.”

You suddenly realized what you’d revealed and looked up at him, your breath caught in your throat at the sudden rush of memories unbidden. You gulped at the tightness in your throat and nodded. “Yeah. I was, um—I was in Atlanta.”

“That’s where you found Rick’s group,” Negan said. It wasn’t really a question.

You nodded. “More like they found me,” you said, ducking your eyes again. It wasn’t lost on Negan that you were avoiding his gaze. He sensed that there was still a wound there, unhealed, deep down. Perhaps it was one that would never truly heal. “But it also wasn’t really Rick’s group then. He’d just met all of them too, like the day before. But Daryl, Rick, T-dog, and—and Glenn,” your voice broke when you said Glenn’s name, but it wasn’t just for him that your voice wavered. “They found me. Helped me.” You sighed and closed your eyes for a moment. “Now, it’s just me, Carol, and Daryl left, out of all of us at the beginning.”

There was a soft frown on Negan’s face, creases in his forehead, when you looked back up, but it wasn’t pity. It was just… sympathy and no small amount of guilt. “I’m—sorry,” he said. His deep voice somehow seemed to cut through the air between you and right to the bone. “I know I had a part in that. And I’m truly sorry.” You were startled to see that his eyes were slightly glassy.

“Yeah, well… you don’t owe that apology to me. You owe it to Maggie and her son far more,” you said, shifting on the sleeping bag you were sitting on. A shiver suddenly wracked through you and you hugged your arms around yourself. The fingers of the cold, damp of the cellar seemed to be slowly finding their way in under your clothing. “I thought you were supposed to only be asking me small talk questions? How’d we get here?” you said with a wry laugh.

But Negan wasn’t really listening. He was digging out the jacket he’d shed earlier and tucked into his pack. “Here,” he said. He tossed it over to you.

You caught it, and then fixed your eyes back on him. “Oh. I’m okay,” you tried to argue.

Negan smiled at you, a small one that had his hazel eyes looking bright. “I just saw you shiver. I already think you’re a badass, doll. A little chill isn’t fucking changing that.”

You sighed, and relented. “Alright…” you murmured, pulling on the jacket. It swallowed up your frame, hanging on your shoulders and bunching around your wrists, and Negan couldn’t quite put a name to the feeling that suddenly manifested in between his lungs.

“Thanks,” you murmured, huddling into the fabric.

“Of course. Seems like we’re gonna be here a while,” Negan said. “Actually—” he pulled the top off a bin beside him and grabbed a camping stove and lighter. “We’ve got a stove, water… MREs. You’ve got those tea leaves we foraged on the way in?”

You quirked an eyebrow up at him. “Yeah?”

“Perfect,” he said. “It’s about dinnertime by now. Sit back and relax!”

You laughed a little skeptically at him. “You’re gonna… cook me dinner?”

“I don’t think heating up some MREs and tea qualifies as cooking. You should see me in a real kitchen. It’s a real panty-dropped,” he grinned.

You rolled your eyes. “Jesus…”

He laughed heartily and started setting up the stove. “No, no. You can still call me ‘Negan’,” he quipped, winking at you.

“Okay… don’t ever wink at me again,” you retorted, which only made him laugh harder.

“That is a promise that I am not willing to make. Or keep,” he joked. “Now, hand me some of those raspberry leaves you picked.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

You stretched lazily, your eyes still closed for a moment, before you shot up straight, remembering where you were and the events of the previous day. Your eyes were wide as you realized that at some point over the course of the night, you’d fallen asleep. Part of you expected to see that Negan had somehow gotten ahold of your gun or knife, despite them always being stored securely on your person. But you didn’t have any need to worry. When you looked across the small, dingy space, he was still perched on the same box of supplies he had been the night before, though his long legs were now stretched out and up on another box.

He was smiling at you serenely, the fireplace poker resting across his knees. “Morning, doll.”

You gulped. “I—I fell asleep.”

“You sure did,” he said. You could tell he hadn’t slept at all. His voice was a bit gruff and undeniably tired. He’d kept watch all night. “You snore by the way.”

You hastily smoothed your hair and clothes, staring back at him. “What? I do not!” you argued.

He laughed. “Yeah, you do. But it’s okay. I found it strangely comforting actually. Nearly put me to sleep.”

“Shut up,” you said, standing up and stretching again.

“Don’t flirt,” he retorted, still smiling serenely.

You paced over toward the one narrow window in the basement and looked up at the quality of light filtering through the dirty glass. It was clearly early morning and the storm had passed. More than that, you couldn’t see or hear any of the dead outside. “Seems like the herd moved on.”

“Mhm,” Negan hummed in agreement. “It all got quiet in the early hours of this morning.”

“You stayed awake all night?”

He nodded, standing now too. “Yeah. Somebody else was slacking off after their gourmet meal,” he teased you.

You ground your teeth together, angry at yourself for falling asleep. “You should have woken me up. And ‘gourmet’ seems like a stretch for an expired MRE don’t you think?”

“With locally sourced tea? Come on, people would have paid a pretty fucking penny for that shit in the old world.”

You laughed a little and shook your head, then turned and fixed your eyes on him with a deeply perplexed expression on your face.

“What? That’s quite a look for first thing in the morning,” Negan said. “I can’t have fucked up that bad already!”

“Why—why didn’t you leave?” you said. “As soon as the herd cleared and the storm settled… you could have disappeared, taken some supplies.” The jacket he’d given to you the night before was still hanging on your smaller frame. The sleeves had slipped down over your hands and you hastily pushed them back up. “You know what you’re going back to.”

He just kept smiling back at you, his expression surprisingly soft and genuine, no trace of his usual jest or masking. It was doing something to you, stirring up a whir of fluttering just below your lungs that was impossible to ignore. You gulped, trying to clear the sensation. He paced toward you, stopping within a foot. “Yeah. Maybe that’s why I stayed,” he said.

Your brow only furrowed even more deeply. “You’re a prisoner,” you said plainly.

Negan shrugged. “Am I? I think I’m starting to fucking forget that…” His hazel eyes were flickering over your face, studying your features. You were the one to fell a sudden wave of emotions cresting up within you and you backed away from it.

“We should—see if the coast is clear,” you said softly, ducking your eyes. “Get back to the car. Everyone back home will be worried. They may even have come looking already.”

Negan smiled to himself. He’d felt something in the air profoundly, but he’d also seen how you’d stepped away and the spell was broken. “Okay,” he said simply.

The two of you gathered up your essential gear and headed up the steps cautiously, listening at the barricaded basement door for any noises on the other side. You pounded on the door with your bandaged hand and pressed your ear to the wood. Nothing. Steady silence.

“Okay,” you said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I don’t hear anything. You can hang onto that poker until we know for sure the house is clear, but then you’ll have to leave it behind. Got it?”

Negan agreed, a little hesitantly, but he wasn’t going to argue with you this time.

You unblocked the door, lifting the wooden board you’d secured it with the night before, being careful to avoid the sharp metal brackets this time. The next moment, you slowly pushed it open.

The house was clear and once you’d thoroughly looked out through windows on all sides of the house, he begrudgingly left the iron fireplace poker behind. Stepping outside, the destruction from the storm and the horde were blatantly evident. Most of the windows in the surrounding buildings, including the house you’d sheltered in, were busted or hailed out. There were large branches blown down off trees and the leaves of many were also shredded in the hailstorm and wind. Shingles and scraps of siding and wood were lying in the scraggly patches of grass.

“Good thing we didn’t try to make it out in the car. I’ll be surprised if the windshield is intact when we get back to it,” you said, nudging a shingle with your boot.

“Yeah,” Negan agreed. “What’s the plan? We still have all those supplies to load up.”

“Um… I guess we can try to get the car in here and load them up. That side road didn’t look too bad on the way in.”

The two of you headed that direction immediately, still on guard and wondering where the herd had gone to. Knowing only hours had passed, it was possible they weren’t far at all. But you arrived at the car safely. However, there was another problem.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you swore, staring at the scene in front of you.

Negan stopped beside you and all he could do was laugh wryly. “Well, shit.”

A huge old cottonwood tree had come down in the storm and the trunk had entirely crushed the car. You sighed and dropped your pack down beside you heaving a huge sigh. “Well… Daryl and Michonne will have noticed by now that we aren’t back. Let’s hope they’re already on their way.” The two of you waited by the car, and luckily it wasn’t long before you saw an approaching vehicle down the old highway. The two of you scrambled into cover, just in case it wasn’t who you were hoping for.

But it was. A truck pulled up and you saw Daryl behind the wheel as it stopped behind your smashed vehicle. Aaron, Rosita, and Daryl piled out and quickly ran to check the car. That’s when the two of you stepped out of cover on the side of the road.

“Hey!” you called out to them. “Can’t tell you how happy I am to see you all,” you said, jogging over. Negan walked over more slowly, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “Hell of a storm,” you said, gesturing at the smashed car.

“Goddamn, ‘m so glad to see ya in one piece,” Daryl said, pulling you quickly into a one-armed hug, his crossbow in the other hand. “We were worried sick, but figured it was the storm. Are ya okay?” he asked, shooting a tense look in Negan’s direction. “What happened to your hand?” he asked, noticing the bandage.

“I’m good. Just cut it while scavenging. It’s fine. How’s Alexandria? Everyone okay after the crazy wind and everything?”

“Yeah, all good. Definitely better than yer car,” he said, looking at the crushed vehicle.

“Thank God you weren’t inside,” Rosita said, slinging her rifle over her back.

“No. Instead we were trapped by a horde in a house,” you explained, crossing your arms.

“A horde?” Aaron repeated. “You’re serious?”

You nodded gravely. “Yeah. I was worried you were going to run into them on the highway to be honest. They moved on overnight.”

Negan was standing nearby, looking out of place. Daryl kept shooting him tense glances.

“We found a pile of supplies though, in a hidden survivalist cellar. I bet we can get a vehicle to the house and load them up, especially with your four-wheel drive vehicle.”

“At least something good came out of your trip then!” Aaron said cheerfully, patting your shoulder. “Glad you’re safe.”

You nodded and you all started back towards their truck. Daryl fell into step beside you. “Hey—” he started in an undertone. “Everything really went okay? Even with him?” he asked.

You nodded and felt your cheeks flushing inexplicably. “Yeah.” You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should even tell him this… but you did. “I—I didn’t mean to, but I fell asleep overnight. Negan stayed up on watch the whole time, Daryl. He could have—taken my weapons, overpowered me—the herd and storm were clear. He could have left, disappeared. But he didn’t. He stayed,” you explained in a low voice. “I—I don’t understand it.”

“Hmm,” Daryl hummed, his brow furrowed deeply, shadows cast over his blue eyes. He looked up and caught Negan staring in your direction. “’M glad yer safe, especially considerin’ that. But ya gotta be more careful.”

You sighed. “I know. I’m already angry at myself. I just—I don’t understand why he stayed,” you said, hesitating with your hand on the door handle of the truck.

Daryl chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “‘M startin’ to have an idea.”

[be-missed]

Find You Again

Jenna Ortega X Fem!Reader

(pictures not mine)

Summary: Reuniting as stars, former high school sweethearts stage a fake relationship to boost their public image. Navigating the scripted romance, sparks fly. The big question: can this staged connection reignite their real love?

Warning: curse words, notify me if there are any. Credits to the owner for the picture that I used below the cut.

A/N: I'm so excited to write this, enjoy. New series for y'all.

Song: I Can See You // Taylor Swift

Masterlist

Chap 1

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Flashing lights are all that Y/N can see, facing all the cameras in different angles, her name being shout by different people, and different set of eyes are focused on her. Walking the red carpet was one of the things that Y/N enjoys when she is invited for an event like the MET Gala; the other things that she enjoys, well, the women who walks with their wonderful dresses. Men? Not really, but the press and the people doesn't need to know that.

"You are staring" a voice from behind her said—her publicist, Emilia notified her when she was staring far too long to the woman that was in front of her. Y/N just shrugs and shakes her head, waiting for her turn to be interviewed.

A few minutes have passed, she is now the next in line to be interviewed, "So Y/N, what a lovely fit you have. Can you tell us who you are wearing?" the interviewer asked, and Y/N answered, "I am so honored to be chosen as one of Givenchy's Ambassador for this event, honoring one of the most prominent person that anyone knows in fashion..."

Y/N's voice got buried with a loud screaming from the bottom of the stairs. Fortunately Y/N got to finish her answer before she looked down. Then there she was, looking like a doll, dress to kill, looks that can melt; Jenna Ortega was standing in the bottom of the stairs, posing for every camera that she caught.

A smile creeping in Y/N's mouth has been caught by the reporter and the camera, this gave the reporter a chance to segue a hot topic that you and Jenna dance around, answering yet not giving the exact information that the people want, "Looks like Jenna Ortega arrived in the house, there have been rumors going around for quite some time now, that the two of you have a history?" the reporter asked with a malice on his voice.

Y/N smiled and answered "Well, we were uhm, friends way before our careers, so yes, we did know each other and yes I can say that we have a great history, but there's no bad blood between us" and chuckles, that leads to the reporters new question "So, if that's what it is, is she the muse for the new single titled 'I Can See You' that you dropped a few weeks ago and will perform later?"

Y/N chuckles and rubs her chin, trying to think of a way to dodge the question, "I mean, Jenna is a wonderful woman, I can't deny that, WE can't deny that. But you know, where is the fun of writing songs if I'm just gonna admit who I'm writing for, right?" Y/N leaves with a wink to the camera and entering the venue.

"That was fucking close. What's with the media trying to come up with something between me and Jenna? It's been going on for months" Y/N whispered to Emilia, trying to find a champagne that she can drink. "There are photos that are circulating in the internet from when you were in High School with Jenna" her publicist answered.

This statement made Y/N look at her publicist with a questing look "Okay, now what? I mean what can they make out of the pictures? I'm pretty sure Jenna is denying it for sure" and got the chance to seat at their designated table. "Yeah, she's totally not denying it, the both of you kept on giving vague answers. But they are the media and your fans, connecting every song that you write and the events that happens to your life and Jenna's life," Emilia said with a knowing look and sipping a champagne.

"How? I mean, I kept on using a he/him pronouns on my song to lower the connection. Don't tell me they are that smart to know and connect things, don't you?" Y/N said to her publicist, looking so worried about the on-going rumor that can't seem to die.

On the other side of the venue, Jenna was taking a seat with Enrique trying to hide an annoyed look. "What's with the rumors and Y/N, they kept on reoccurring, why can't it die?" Jenna said trying to fidget with pearls that on her dress. "You know that the both of you aren't denying anything, right?" Enrique said to the girl.

Jenna then send Enrique a look that can kill and said "I am denying it, that's for sure. While HER, she keeps on dancing around it" Enrique then shakes his head "Oh no darling, you weren't denying it, the BOTH of you are dancing around it. Please don't deny it" then Jenna answered him so quick "I am denying it, I kept on saying no..."

Enrique just chuckles and said "See, the both of you aren't denying anything. You and Y/N always say that the both of you are 'good friends' and for the record, the both of you are always in the same event" and ended his sentence with a shrug trying to prove his point.

Jenna just rolled her eyes and tries to listen to whoever is speaking. While Y/N got called backstage to get ready to perform.

The host announced that Y/N was about to perform. Lights were dimmed and a shadow in the middle can be seen, the intro starts, and the crowd began to applaud and scream for Y/N's name.

Jenna noticed the intro and looked at Enrique and said "Really, she's gonna sing this? Out of all the songs?" and Enrique chuckled at the comment and replied "Well that's her new song, what can we do but to listen and enjoy, right?"

The performance ended with pyrotechnics in the stage and a wild crowd.

As the host again took over the stage, Jenna decided that she needed another drink, because what the fuck was that lyric, it just added gas to the burning fire, nice move, she thought in a sarcastic tone.

"One sour whiskey please" Jenna said to the bar tender, wanting to seat in the bar stool but sadly, her gown is restricting her. While she was waiting for her drink, whispers can be heard from behind her, not wanting to know the drama she still decided to maintain her focus on the bar.

"Nice dress you have there"

Once the voice registered, her eyes widen and her hand clenches into fist. Thinking if she ignores the voice, it will just go away, because if she faces the other girl tonight, she don't know if she will make a scene. But to no avail, the voice speak again, now beside her.

"I said you look good in your dress, Miss Ortega" Jenna heard, now feeling a smirk plastered on Y/N's face. With all her might Jenna faced the other girl with a tight smile, her hand clenched by her side and said "I heard you the first time, you know?" with an eyebrow raised, "Oh so you were just ignoring me then?" Y/N said now trying to make a sad face.

Jenna's jaw clenched, how can Y/N take this like a joke, "Yes you are right, I am ignoring you" focusing back on the bartender, "But I thought we were 'good friends', right" Y/N answered while trying to tease Jenna, "In case if you didn't notice, I say that for us to have neutral grounds, now can you please piss off?" Jenna answered and thought that it might be a little harsh but she really just want to be away from Y/N.

Before Y/N got to say something, the bartender gave Jenna her drink, and when she's ready to walk away, a photographer got in her way and said "Hey Y/N and Jenna, can you please pose so that I can take a shot"

Y/N greeted the photographer with a smile and accepted the request, she pulls Jenna near her, while Jenna tries to stay her ground, "Come girls closer" the photographer again said and Y/N thought, "This man surely knows how to stir the pot"

The both of them smiled for the camera, closer than they have been for 5 years. This was the first picture of them that they were this close to each other after their career boomed and well, after what they had.

"Thanks ladies, enjoy the night" the photographer said and left the duo. "Okay you can let go now" Jenna said, "For your information, I also don't like being linked to you, so I came here to clear things out, yeah?" Y/N said with a nod in her head.

That surprises Jenna "Okay, I get that, then go on and deny that we had a history" Jenna said challenging Y/N, "You first, you are always out doing interview, unlike me, I don't have any premiere shows or any other events like this" Y/N smirked.

It made Jenna's blood boil again, inhale and exhale, she reminded herself. She doesn't want to make a scene and be banned to this gala, this is her second time, she doesn't want it to be her last she thought.

Y/N walked away and left Jenna stunned with her drink on hand.

---

After the MET Gala, of course there would be an after party, Jenna was invited to many but decided to go to the nearest one to her hotel.

Trying to fix her make-up inside the car that she is on, she hears Enrique say, "Okay, slow down with the drinks, we don't need you going around the place" with a knowing look, Jenna then replied "That was ONE time oh my god, please let that go" with an annoyed tone.

Her car stopped at the entrance, looking outside through her window she saw a dozen of paparazzi trying to get a picture of none other than Y/F/N Y/L/N.

"Fuck, no fucking way" Jenna said to Enrique, still looking at the window, "What? What's the problem?" Enrique asked her worriedly, "Y/N is here, I can't stand another minute of faking smiles with her, every time I see her I fell like my stomach churns and I want to vomit so bad. Enrique please, let's go to another party" Jenna pleaded that earned a shakes to Enrique's head.

"Nope, can't be, your manager chose this party so you can mingle with different artist. I can't say no to that, and you know it" Enrique stated with a stern look, not giving Jenna a chance to say another word.

With a grunt Jenna whispers to herself "Here goes nothing" and exits the car. Another set of cameras are now trying to capture Jenna and her outfit for the afterparty, looking at the entrance, she saw Y/N rolled her eyes, Jenna thought "The fucking nerve of this girl t roll her eyes"

Now that they are in the same vicinity again, the paparazzi wasted no time and asked for a picture of them together, which they don't say no, since they don't want to cause another issue.

Y/N greeted Jenna with an open arm and huge smile, when Jenna got situated next to Y/N, she heard the other girl say "Are you stalking me?" which made Jenna look at the girl, with the heels that she is wearing, she stepped on Y/N's toe that made Y/N jerked in pain, with a worried voice Jenna said "Are you okay?"

With that, the security ushered the cameras away and assisted the both of them inside.

"DO you really need to step on me?" Y/N said, "Oh, I didn't mean to, really" Jenna answered, voice filled with sarcasm. Y/N have a deadpan look not believing what Jenna said "Yeah? You sure there?" Y/N said challenging Jenna, and that made Jenna smile "Of course not, I would do it again and again."

With that, Jenna left Y/N speechless. Y/N thought to herself "Is she that fucking angry at me? What did I even do to her?" and proceeded to enter the party and mingle with other artists.

The party actually went well for the both of them, avoiding each other like a plague, Y/N performing in the party and joining the DJ in the booth while Jenna tries to expand her connections and tries to know new faces.

Another hour have passed and Y/N was now taking a break from all the mingling and faking smiles and went to the bathroom, as if like faith is trying to take the both of them as a joke, she saw Jenna bending over the sink.

"Are you fine?" voiced laced with worry as Y/N walked slowly towards Jenna, "Don't come near me" Jenna said head still hanging low. Y/N stopped in her track and said "You are tipsy... or like drunk? You need to go home."

The statement made Jenna look at Y/N and said "What now, you're my mom now?" Y/N just rolled her eyes knowing that it is impossible to argue with a drunk Jenna. Y/N fished out her phone and texted someone, "Come on, I'll bring you to your hotel, can you tell me where it is?" Y/N asked while staying on her track.

"No, I won't go with you, I don't want to go with you can't you see that? Leave me alone" Jenna said trying to fix her make-up in front of the mirror, "Why not? You clearly can't walk straight I bet" Y/N said and chuckled. Jenna hates it, she hates that Y/N is right, that is why she is in the corner holding herself through the sink and not moving an inch because she knows she'll stumble with her drunk state and her heels so high.

Y/N take Jenna's silence as a cue to go to the other girl and support her. Jenna then said "We can't be seen going home together, I don't wanna be seen with you" It made Y/N's heart ache, is she that fucking bad in Jenna's perspective to the point that she doesn't want to be seen with her? Y/N just swallowed down the pain that she feels.

"Yeah, I messaged Enrique, he will meet us at the entrance and I'll make sure to not be seen with you." with a heavy sigh, Y/N supported Jenna to walk out of the bathroom through the crowd of people inside the party and into the entrance.

"Jenna, Enrique said he'll meet us at the front" Y/N notified and it made Jenna shakes her head "No... Y/N Nooooo" Jenna whined, it made Y/N chuckle, if she can have Jenna like this every time, not wanting to cut her throat, or sending sarcastic comments, she would make Jenna drink alcohol for as long as she wants, but she knows she can't.

But like their situation right now, Enrique can't really enter so they need to meet him in front.

"Jenna, I'm very sorry but we really need to meet him in front" Y/N said and telling to the security that they will go out of the establishment, which the security ushered them to.

Flashes of light welcomed them to the outside world, not far enough Y/N saw Enrique waiting for Jenna. "Thanks, I'm really sorry I can't meet you inside" Enrique said which Y/N answered "It's okay, take care, I'll be back inside"

___

"WE CAN SEE YOU: Jenna Ortega and Y/F/N Y/L/N seen going home together after the after party for the MET GALA"

Actress Jenna Ortega and Singer Y/F/N Y/L/N seen together leaving the after party hand in hand. But before this, they are also seen in the red carpet, fans capturing how the singer look at the actress. They have also been asked with questions pertaining to them being together but the both of them swam around the topic. Another photo of them was released mingling by the the bar inside the MET, having all smiles and flirting with each other.

Their fans have been speculating that they were together ever since High School and just kept it lowkey due to their reputation and their careers. The fans also tried to make sense of Y/N's released songs and connected it to the actress, which can somehow make sense, but we can't be for sure knowing that the singer also have a list of exes.

The fans and the media seemed to not disagree and hate their dynamic, instead they hope that what they speculate is real, knowing and seeing how beautiful they look together.

Stay tuned for the latest update towards our favorite couple, or may I say duo? Who knows, right?

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A/N: Hope you enjoy this new series, thoughts?

Chapter 2

[whatdaikesneed]

One of the bartenders at the not-quite-a-gay bar I frequent is an out-and-proud lesbian working her way through a psychology PhD. She's 23, early in the program, straight out of undergrad. She's been working at this bar since she turned 21, so I've known her for a few years. She's also, like, fucked up. I love talking with her about school, because she gets visibly horny talking about studying abnormal psych and abuse.

This semester she's in a seminar on familial abuse, and a few weeks ago she's telling me all about this family where the parents are grooming the kids from when they're preteens, and she's talking to me about trying to look the right amount of disgusted in class, meanwhile fantasies are swimming around in her head about getting abused like that. I asked her if she would masturbate to a client's trauma story if their parents had sexually abused them. She said, "Probably not in front of her."

I know she's not planning on going into clinical therapy, but I kind of want her to. Bet she'd come back and tell me great stories about the confidential shit that's happened to her patients.

Anyway she says she's so glad to be able to talk to me, because she's got no one to talk to about any of this stuff, but it's hard at the bar because she can't be as graphic as she wants to while she's working. So I offer to make plans to hang out at my place, where she can come get it all off her chest.

Two days later she shows up at my place with a laptop, so excited. We sit down on the couch and she opens up the laptop and goes to fansly. She's subscribed to like twelve accounts, that don't look like they have anything to do with her.

She pulls one of them up, scrolls down a bit, and finds a particular video, which she plays. The girl in the video is doing an RP video with a dildo sticking in from off camera, talking to her "Daddy" and sucking and fucking it. And the bartender girl says, "Her dad really fucked her like this. Almost beat for beat." I noticed that the performance felt a lot less contrived than these things usually do, like there's a whole backstory but she's not worried about filing you in on it.

After a few minutes of that one, she goes over to a femboy with a huge cock, and pulls up a video of him riding a dildo until he makes himself cum hands free. No mention of family here, but while he fucks himself she explains, "he didn't get molested, but his sisters both did. He said he wonders sometimes if that's what made him want to be so feminine, because that was how you got Dad to want to play with you. Later, he raped one of his sisters. She still won't speak to him, but he said it was worth it, because it was the best sex of his life. He thinks she might eventually admit how good it was and come back for another round. He also thinks about raping the other one, to see if it's just as good. He doesn't think she knows about her sister."

Bartender girl fully had her hand down her yoga pants and was rubbing her clit, watching this oiled up twink cum, and, I imagine, wishing she were his sister.

"How do you know this stuff?"

"My advisor works on sex workers and trauma. She interviewed all these people."

"And she told you about it?"

"Fuck no," she said, queueing up another video. "I broke into her filing cabinet and took photos. Look, see this girl? That guy fucking her is her real brother."

That video was a good half hour long, and she was settling in to masturbate right through it, so I said, "Do you mind if I join you?"

"please do," she said, and I took my cock out and started stroking. She reached up her shirt and started playing with her nipple, then noticed me looking and pushed her shirt up to show off her tits. A couple minutes after that she pulled her yoga pants and underwear down her thighs, and went back to masturbating.

She said "this is my favorite part," and rubbed herself so hard as the boy—the girl's brother—pressed deep into her and came.

The girl said "did you just cum inside me?" And he goes "yeah." She says "you can't do that, idiot! I'm not on the pill!"

But this is only like halfway through the video, and this guy straight up cuddles up to his sister, says it's gonna be okay, strokes her hair, then opens her legs and starts fucking her again.

Without turning to her, I ask bartender girl, "What was your dad like?"

And she said, "What? Fuck!" And doubled over herself, rubbing so much harder.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine! Ask me again!"

"What was your father like?"

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—"

I put a hand on her back, and said, "What kind of man was your father?"

She had a shaking, screaming, whole-body orgasm.

When she began to regain her composure, she said, "Thank you. That was so good."

"Anything you need help with, I'm your daddy."

She nuzzled up to me, and said, "do you mean it?"

I said, "Of course, sweetheart. I'd do anything for my favorite daughter."

Tremors shot up and down her body as she took that in, and she said, "Thanks, Dad."

(to be continued)

[waokevale]

The Overlapped AU [Aka Superhumans disguisted as Dinner Theater workers]

The Owners

The Managers (Engineer & the HR person)

The Waiters

The Security

The Performers (Wes is mostly on cleaning duty though)

The Kitchen staff (the others are usually tasked to help, though very few are actually trusted at all times to be there)

The Bartender and the Host

The Dishwashers

The Clerk & The Supplier

So this AU came to me upon a dream, and I just had to make it real...

The synopsis below:

The event of April 17th 1906 does happen, however instead of Charlie and Maxwell being kidnapped into the Constant, the Constant overlaps with the real world and spreads itself onto Earth.

Charlie and Maxwell in the process become corrupted and have to hide away temporarily. Both of them soon began to hear strange voices, source of which neither is quite sure, telling them, compelling them to hide the corruption's effect from the publicity, for the time being.

They come to a mutual realization they have to fix this mess somehow and hunt down any and all corrupted by the tome, by any means necessary.

(Maxwell still has codex umbra, but it is sealed shut for the time being until he's sure it won't spread more if Their influence. )

But the corruption didn't just appear out of nowhere, it's been leaking way long before Maxwell found the Codex, if to a less prominent extent.

Thus, in few years passing, they form a Dinner Theater, a rather inconspicuous establishment from the first glance. Very quickly they began "hiring" employees, which in reality means tracking down and blackmailing those who have been corrupted but not fully lost themselves to its effects, in order to hunt those who had.

Winona was against the idea at first, as she found out. But seeing the effects of corruption first hand, she quickly had a change of heart and integrated herself into Charlie's new environment.

Eventually they gathered a rather generous amount of people. Once a person's proven to be trustworthy to a point, they're give higher positions in the company.

However those who aren't, are likely to be shunned or "fired" which...you could probably guess what that means.

Many of these people gradually come to terms with the reality of their situation and accept their newfound purpose, being thankful that at least they still have a roof over their head and a warm meal, instead of being viewed as monsters or outcasts to the greater society.

(Wilson though, can't quite accept this notion. He keeps claiming that "this is just a big misunderstanding, I'm just a normal guy!" Yet the truth could be far from it.)

When Maxwell and Charlie hear of the danger looming, they immediately inform their "staff" of the matter. Those who are more experienced in combat come along to face whatever opponent may cross them, while those who aren't, stay behind, to be an additional aid or a medic in case the battle gets too intense.

Whenever any suspicion arises in the town about the shady business going on in that particular building, the two owners alongside their employees practically gaslight anyone and everyone into believing they're but the most regular entertainment center.

The characters who have either willingly or unwillingly lost their humanity, mostly in the physical sense, are given special devices constructed of Thulecite and bits of nightmare fuel (made by Winona, Wicker and the main two), which effectively hide away their true identity, or surpress the effects of their ailment.

There's also a few other people important to this story, especially the One, which even Charlie and Maxwell refer to as "The Boss", though what many most recent hires don't know, is that there's someone who's in a position much higher than the owners themselves, controlling their every move.

Correlating to that, another person, or rather, a set of people per se, working for a much different cause. Though most of them are "people" in only a visual sense of the word.

And while, there might be someone inside the well-known around town diner, who just might be more than what appears on the surface, literally and metaphorically this time.

__________

If you're interested to learn more about this AU, do let me know. If you have any questions, I'm happy to hear and answer them!

[hypostatic-oath]

Hydro Archon, Hydro Archon, Don't Cry

I've noticed a pattern with 5star characters in my game - they only come home after I've done their story quest or at least the Archon Quest where they appear. From an in-game perspective it's obviously because it takes me a while to finish the quest and I raise the pity in the meantime, however... from a SAGAU perspective, it's adorable that they only come around after I've spent the time to get to know them better.

Content Warnings: Angst, Furina desperately needs a hug.

SPOILERS FOR 4.2 BELOW

Imagine Furina before the Archon Quest. She's holding it together, like she has been for five hundred years. She's been performing her role so well for so long, yet she feels like she's already gone beyond her limit. She doesn't know how long she can handle doing this for, but she knows she must.

Late at night, she takes a break to catch some air. She's aware that she's still performing - she's alone, but she cannot risk lowering her mask, even before an invisible audience. She takes a deep breath and looks up, and doesn't even feel the tears flowing down her face.

A shimmering light crosses the sky.

Foçalors, it beckons. Come home.

Oh no. Not this. She's not ready, she's not ready! Not tonight. She tells herself she'll answer your summons tomorrow. In truth, she doesn't feel worthy of answering. What if she's not what you expect?

That isn't even a question. She knows she's not what you expect.

She knows you have other Archons - real Archons - among your Vessels. She panics - she doesn't even have a Vision, much less an Archon's authority. There's only so much she can achieve with acting. What would she do when you took her out on the battlefield and she inevitably failed?

Come on... Another shooting star crosses the sky, your voice a faint, ethereal whisper in her ears. I need an Archon team...

It fills her with dread. She can't answer your summons! She absolutely can't! Not only would she disappoint you - because there's no way she wouldn't, surely, she can't imagine a world in which you are not disappointed once you figure out just what she is, a fraud who can't even use Hydro much less be the literal Archon - she'd also jeopardize her only purpose.

She rushes inside, back to her room, closes the shutters and the window and the curtains and almost leaps into bed, placing the covers over herself as if to shield herself from the world.

She can still hear you calling.

The next day, Poisson is struck. The prophecy is in full swing. She's frantic, searching for something, anything that could possibly help. All the while maintaining the façade. At least you seem to have given up.

It's both relieving and heartbreaking.

At night, she doesn't even risk it - her windows are kept shut. She analises every report, and locks her door when she notices that she's crying, the papers she's holding becoming dotted with tears that fall despite her best efforts. She can hear the rain hitting her window, and the downpour has her feeling even more hopeless.

Neuvillette speaks with her in the following morning. If the pressure from you wasn't enough, she now also has to manage to assure the Hydro Dragon Sovereign that she has everything under control. It's funny, how those eyes capable of such gentleness seem to gaze into her without a shred of mercy. Just speaking to him now feels like she's been put on trial, and Furina knows, deep down in her soul, that she is guilty.

He presses. Poisson has fallen. She knows. She also knows she's likely crying, the mask is slipping, but she can't give up. She has no right - no right at all, to sacrifice the lives of every person in Fontaine for the sake of her comfort. She cannot afford to slip up. And that means she cannot trust anyone - not you, and not Neuvillette. So she gathers the little control she can at this time, tells him she knows exactly what she's doing, and dashes out the door.

Wait, Furina!

She barely hears your voice as she runs. "I'm sorry, but I can't answer!" She thinks, as she rushes to the top floor of the Palais Mermonia. She knows she gas no time to lose. She needs to get herself in check, to wipe away her tears, to figure something out. Where had she gone wrong? Five hundred years, searching for a solution. Five hundred years of observing every trial, hoping it'll finally be the one she needs. But nothing.

She has nothing, and Poisson has fallen.

She thought the Traveler - and you, by extension - would be the key. That by judgding them she'd have the "most magnificent trial" that her mirror self spoke of. And yet, at every turn, the blonde outlander had managed to evade being sentenced, or even making the trial as grand as she'd expected. She paces around in her room as she mulls it over. Should she had judged you directly? Could she have done so? That would've been a trial for the ages - the Overseer, brought to justice by the Hydro Archon of Fontaine, for the crime of... what could she even accuse you of? Posessing people's bodies? That had to be illegal - or at least immoral enough to warrant a trial...

She lets her body flop onto the bed, covering her eyes with one arm as she lets out a sigh that despite its overdramatic appearance, is in fact incredibly genuine. She's tired. So tired.

Foçalors, come home.

Furina buries her face beneath one of the pillows. She hopes it'll drown out the sound of your voice. She can't distinguish whether that ache in her chest is from your summons growing more insistent or from how much she needs to cry.

The shooting star turns golden outside the window, and Furina wonders if the fact that someone else intercepted it will be enough to dissuade you. She hopes it is, otherwise, her days are numbered.

No more stars cross the sky that night, and relief washes over her body, in a wave so intense that she once again doesn't notice the tears. She falls asleep like that, and dreams of rising waters.

Furina heads to the Opera Epiclese in the morning. She's not looking forward to seeing Neuvillette, but she prays that there'll be a trial. "Please," she thinks, as she sits down in the throne reserved for the Hydro Archon, observing the stage from on high, "let it be today."

It isn't. Instead of a trial, there is a performance... and though she usually loves them, now is not the time. Worse yet, she's spotted by the crowd as she's getting ready to leave. They're angry, of course they are. The prophecy is true, and what is their Archon doing? Furina performs as best as she can, but this time the audience is completely unreceptive. She doesn't blame them. She'd be angry, too, in their shoes. She knows they're terrified. She's terrified, too.

But what can she do? Her search has turned up empty. She has no powers, not really, none besides the power of persuasion and even that seems to be slipping more and more these days. She cannot reassure her people. Neuvillette no longer trusts her, if he ever did. The water rises every day with no signs of stopping.

"Why, mirror-me? Where am I failing?"

The crowd chases her out of the theater. Neuvillette is nowhere in sight, and even if he were, Furina isn't sure she could call upon him now. The time in which he acted as her shield if gone. Neuvillette is now just another of the many she's disappointed.

It hurts.

With no other choice, she runs - as far as her legs will take her, she dashes away from the crowd, and guilt tells her she's being a coward. That she needs to stand up and reassure the masses, that she needs to do what an Archon would at that time.

The notion feels almost ridiculous. She cannot command her element freely like Barbatos, or raise protections over her city like Morax. She cannot threaten to strike down the unruly like the Shogun, nor does she have Lesser Lord (Lesser Lord! Hah! Even someone known as 'Lesser' is leagues beyond Furina's ability) Kusanali's foresight and wisdom.

So she does what she can do.

Whether it is fate or simply her own feelings of guilt, she finds herself in Poisson, at the base of the Spina di Rosula. The place where all those people - her people - had lost their lives to a disaster she was supposed to prevent.

When the Traveler extends their hand, she doesn't know whether it is a blessing or a curse. She wants to run again - what else can she do? But her pursuers are apparently still giving chase, and the outlander offers her aid. She can feel your presence from within them - every time she's crossed paths with them, as brief as those moments were, you were there. She can tell that the longing in the blonde's eyes is, at least in part, yours.

She's sorry.

She follows the Traveler to the hiding place - someone's home? It seems irrelevant. For a moment, she wonders if she could sue you for invasion of private property. "Oh, what am I thinking? The time for the grand trial is over... and even if it weren't, suing the Overseer for something so trivial would warrant the same result as the first time I challenged the Traveler..."

The Traveler. The outlander whose presence preceeded disaster. They were known for solving it, sure, but she knew that the moment they set foot in Fontaine the prophecy would have already started. Was it their fault, or yours?

Furina still feels like it might be hers.

The Traveler offers help once again. They extend their hand, and the look in their eyes as they ask her to confide in them is so earnest, so genuine. She swars she can hear two sets of voices saying the words - the Traveler's, and yours. It's faint, and gentle, and pained, and carries a yearning she knows she cannot fix.

Through them, you reach for her and she almost breaks. She knows you'll stop reaching once you know the truth.

Furina, please. You can trust us, love. Let me- let us help. People from your world cannot know, but neither of us fit that criteria. Your people will not dissolve, I promise you. I've seen enough worlds to know.

She considers it.

She hears your voice, and considers it. But there is uncertainty in your tone. You're gambling, and she's a good enough actress to know you're not sure yourself. They wouldn't do it, that's your reasoning. Furina doesn't know who 'they' are, but you're placing all your bets on the fact that 'they' would not erase an entire Nation. Who are 'they'? Celestia? If so, she knows for certain that your wager is more optimistic than based on facts. It's not enough - blind optimism is not enough for her to risk it, not even from a being like you. Besides, that is not her choice to make.

She cannot give up. She cannot lower her guard. Not with Neuvillette, not with the Traveler, not with you. The Traveler urges her for a response, reaches out, and she's about to deny them, when the house's walls fall.

Damn it, we needed more time! Furina, I'm so sorry.

She feels your sorrow about at the same time that she feels the spotlight on her.

Neuvillette looks down from his seat as the Chief Justice, and somehow the sliver of pity in his eyes hurts more than the coldness of a few days prior.

She's on trial.

________

She's crying.

She's not even making an effort to conceal it anymore. It's over. The curtains have closed and everything she worked so hard for has crumbled. The people know. Neuvillette knows. You know. Furina makes no effort to hear your voice. She knows you're disappointed.

If she did, perhaps she'd hear how you're screaming at the Traveler to go check on her. If she did, perhaps she'd hear how despite everything, you're reaching out, still. How you wish to hold her tight, as she deserves. She'd perhaps hear your outrage at the thought of her being subjected to the death sentence, she'd hear you trying to tear Neuvillette apart for allowing it, she'd hear you slowly realising that the fact that the sentence is addressed to the Hydro Archon means it's not her who dies.

She doesn't witness your relief.

Instead, it is you who gain an understanding of her thoughts. The Traveler reaches for her, and she can feel you pushing through, but she can't stop performing. Even now, she's still holding it, as much as she can.

You tear through her defenses with more ease than she expected. Furina had, until now, thought of you as detached. She knew you saw the world as a stage, a story for your amusement. Sure, you liked them, but only to the extent that one likes characters in a play, right? You were, as far as she knew, exactly the type of god - or, er, entity? - she emulated. Fickle. Boastful. Using lives as entertainment, watching trials and tribulations like a performance and solving the Nations' troubles like nothing more than a game. She had not expected you to care.

Not about her.

Not after knowing the truth.

You push forward. She knows it's you, and not the Traveler, who's in control. She can feel it, the intensity with which you reach out is the same she felt tugging at her very being every time a star crossed the sky. She knows it's you who's still trying to reach her. Even if she's failed.

Even if she's not capable of being in your Archon Team.

So she sighs, and lets you witness. That is your role, after all, isn't it? An audience of one, watching an interactive play. You haven't given up on her character, even though it's not what you expected. You're not what she expected, either. Funny, she finds herself thinking, you're both more human than anyone realised.

You witness her life. She lets it play out like a film before your eyes, the endless stream of memories of growing hopelessness as she realised that the prophecy was slowly setting itself up and she was not any closer to finding out how to stop it. Now you know - the truth, the whole truth. She has nothing left to lose now, anyway. Everything is lost. She was unmasked. She failed.

You're pushed out of her thoughts after she invites you to take your place on stage. You act in her memory, but this time the Traveler doesn't speak. You barely have time to state your piece - all you manage is an I'm sorry before being forced away. She has nothing more to share. That is enough, she figures, and far more than she ever thought she'd share. She still feels the urge to cry, but part of it is from relief.

After that, she doesn't feel your presence until after the flood.

The prophecy comes and goes and Fontaine is unharmed. The flood lasts no more than minutes, and no one is dissolved. Furina remembers your words - 'they' wouldn't do that. Though she is unsure as to 'their' identity, she is thankful that you were right. The sunlight feels like bliss upon her skin as she steps out of the Opera Epiclese, gentle rays drying the remaining water from the streets and the tears on her cheeks, and for the first time in five hundred years she breathes easy.

"They're still hoping you'll come." A familiar voice pulls her out of her trance. The Traveler, alone, stands behind her. Your presence is nowhere near. They look the same, yet different, without you within. Furina can't quite explain it, but it feels odd after being so used to seeing you within the outlander.

"I'm not an Archon." She answers, a certain bitterness in her voice as she looks down, defeated.

"I don't think they care. I know you need to rest for now, and they don't have enough primos for a ten pull anyways, but... just so you know. They'll keep trying."

Furina doesn't quite know whether that is meant as a warning or as an opportunity presenting itself. They're gone before she can ask. Either way, they're right - she is tired, and she does need rest. Out of instinct, she heads to the Palais Mermonia, but stops herself as she reaches for the door.

"Lady Furina." The gentle, deep voice she knows as belonging to the Iudex pulls her from her thoughts. She doesn't dare look him in the eye. He opens the door for her, but she simply turns away. She cannot face him, not after that trial, not after everything she'd done.

"Thank you, monsieur Neuvillette. But I... I think I'll be going, now."

The now fully restored Hydro Dragon can only watch as Furina walks away. He knows she needs her space right now, but that doesn't stop him from worrying for her. He'll arrange the best apartment he can get for her, and make sure she never lacks for anything. In the meantime, though, he'll just try not to let his emotions get the best of him, lest he causes a downpour to fall upon poor Furina, who definitely does not need rain right now. If there is one thing he knows about humans is that rain does not, for the most part, cheer them up. So he holds it in, promising himself that he'll take a small break for a walk after the aftermath of everything is over, and heads to his office.

There is so much to do...

_________

Three weeks pass. Furina lays on her bed, her window open, the soft breeze bringing the smell of a night that promises rain into the apartment. She is busy, not with work, or with renovations, but with the azure glass sphere that she holds up to the light, examining it under her lamp. A Vision... during all those years, she had never thought she'd receive such a thing, much less after being pushed away from her role as the Archon. She is thankful, yes, for her newfound freedom, and, she supposes, for the fact that she'd gotten to act again. But it still remains that this bauble was completely unexpected.

Power. This little thing can give her power. She's still unsure on how to use it, and it crosses her mind that the Traveler - or you - might know. You owe her, after all, after what she did to help you out with the play... she could feel you trying to strangle the Traveler and Paimon on the astral plane and that was perhaps why she wasn't entirely offended by their remarks. Still, she had made a great effort for that play. It was only fair that at least one of you repays the favor, no?

Furina smiles softly, sighing. She'll have to put up a commission at the Guild tomorrow.

She examines the light reflecting within, and it reminds her of the surface of the sea as seen from underwater. The holder, a silvery ornament not unlike those she's seen worn by Vision-bearers, has a distinct characteristic - four fang-like details that seem to secure the glass in place. Before she can give it more thought, the first pitter patter of raindrops reaches her ears, and she rushes to retrieve the clothes hanging on the line she has in the small balcony of her apartment before they get too wet. She rushes outside, hearing as the rain and wind pick up.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it..." She mutters to herself, quickly shoving the clothes onto a basket, trying to pick them off the line as fast as she can. Behind her, a flash of light illuminates the night sky. "Oh, I am so not in the mood for thunder..."

Furina cringes, hoping the storm is not directly above. Maybe she'll be able to sleep if it's just a faraway rumbling. What she hears, however, is not the booming sound of a storm.

Furina. Come home.

You're still trying. For a moment, she forgets about the heavy rain, and the clothes, and simply looks up at the sky. Blue flashes, one after the other, cross the clouds in rapid succession. Even after everything, you hadn't given up. The Traveler had warned her, but at the time she hadn't been in a stable enough state of mins to even care, still shaken from everything that had happened.

Now, she simply looks up.

"Overseer." She answers. You won't be able to add her to the 'Archon Team'. She knows she's not as powerful as most of your Vessels - hell, she doesn't even know how to use her Vision yet. But you still want her.

You know the truth - the whole truth - and you still want her.

The next star that crosses the sky turns gold, and glows brighter and brighter until it lands in front of her, hovering above the railing on her balcony. It emits a soft, warm light, and Furina reaches for it like she'd reached for her Vision.

Warmth spreads over her body, and it feels like every time she'd looked at the Traveler with you in them, except everything feels more... intense. It's not like she's seeing the filtered bits of you that shine through the cracks in someone else, no. She can feel you directly, and she understands why they call it 'coming home'. It's warm. It's comfortable. And for the first time she can truly, honestly say she doesn't feel alone.

You're happy she's there. Time seems to stop around her, and she finds herself dry and in a field full of stars. If she squints, she can barely make out a form, a swirling swarm of stardust in the vague shape of a person. She reaches a hand out.

You place the cursor over her outstretched hand.

Welcome home, Furina.